Survival Is Just A Maize
by misticalcookie
Summary: a/n On a very long break.  Hopefully I'll be able to write more, but as for right now, I don't know if I'll be able to finish this.
1. To Have An Evil Plan

****Welcome to the Thirty Third Games.****

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><p><strong>To Have An Evil Plan<strong>

Easha was an idiot. It was that simple. Amazing how that stupid of a person had gotten the most coveted job as a Gamemaker.

Seven spots. That was all there were available. No more, and no less. Just the random odd number of seven.

When one Gamemaker left or died, and it was more often then not, by way of death, then another person was hired within the hour. It was a coveted spot that was hard to get. In fact, it was easier to implant wings then get a job as a Gamemaker. The easiest way was to know someone.

That was how Flamiken had gotten the spot almost twenty-five years ago. The death of her mother was sudden and unexpected. Flamiken didn't even have time to cry before she was whisked into the world of the Gamemakers.

And now the current Head Gamemaker was dead as well. A new Gamemaker had already been selected, a young Capitolite by the name of Easha. And Easha was an idiot. And now the seven of them were sitting around the oak table and waiting to find out who would be the new Head Gamemaker.

Flamiken wondered who it would be. Not Easha, she was too new, she needed at least ten years of Gamemaker experience first. At least, those were the rules, but rules could always be amended. But currently, ten years of experience was required. That meant that Wendetta and Alidia were out. It was only Wendetta's third year and Alidia's seventh year. So it was between Volouth, Thaver, Duren and herself. She was up against the three guys. She wouldn't get the position. There had never been a female Head Gamemaker yet, and there probably never would be. Discrimination.

Volouth was too immature to be considered. So either Thaver or Duren. Duren was the older of the two and though he was wise, he would probably be dead within a few years. Thaver, that was Flamiken's best guess. Someone had to be selected soon, they needed to get started on working out the kinks for the thirty third games.

The other Gamemakers were all nervous and jittery. Flamiken wanted to put duct tape over Wendetta's mouth and wanted to tie Alidia to her chair. It also wouldn't hurt to glue Volouth's eyes shut, because he wouldn't stop leering at her.

Flamiken threw Volouth another glare, but he just chuckled to himself.

The door opened and the President walked in without a trace of emotion on his face.

"Sir," the Gamemakers acknowledged him.

"Myzer," he said in his snaky voice.

Flamiken locked eyes with him.

"Congratulations," he said flatly. "You're the new Head Gamemaker."

And he turned around and walked out without another word. Leaving Flamiken speechless. She was shocked, she had not seen that coming. Volouth let out a loud obnoxious cat whistle that jolted her back to the present. The other Gamemakers were all staring at her. Thaver and Duren in jealousy and Easha with admiration.

First order of business, putting Volouth in line and setting him straight. Too bad she couldn't fire him, that might have taught him a lesson. But even though she was now the Head, she didn't have the right to hire or fire. It was up to the President, everything was up to the President. It was supposed to be easier that way. If she wanted to get rid of Volouth, then she would have to appeal to a council.

She didn't want to get him fired though. She actually liked Volouth, when he wasn't being his usual immature self. A rarity for him though.

"So your majesty, shall we get started?" Volouth asked. Okay, so maybe he would never grow up.

Flamiken sighed before addressing her fellow Gamemakers. She definitely had her work cut out for her.

"We have a lot to do before the Reapings begin in two months," Flamiken cut straight to the chase. "We need to come up with an arena idea, chariots and outfits. We need to get the stylists sorted out and figure out traps. There's a lot to do and not a lot of time. So we have to get our acts together and step up to the plate."

Volouth grumbled. Flamiken ignored him. It was the easiest way to do it. She had learned by watching how her predecasor had handled Volouth, and she was doing the exact opposite. "So much work."

"If you don't like it, then leave," Flamiken said in a clipped voice. "There are others just waiting for your spot. For the chance to be a Gamemaker." It was true. There was a waiting list to be a Gamemaker, and waiting lists were usually passed over in favor for someone related to a current or previous Gamemaker.

Volouth grumbled again, like someone's stomach when it was hungry. Flamiken was already annoyed and fed up with the sound. Some things just irritated the crap out of her. Wendetta's voice, Volouth's grumble, Alidia's whining.

"I'll stay," Volouth crossed his arms in front of him.

"That's what I thought," Flamiken said, going over to the white board where the previous Head Gamemaker had started sketching ideas. She erased everything. It was time for a new start, a new beginning. It was her turn. And she was ready to make these games the most memorable ever. "So twenty four new tributes are going to be reaped soon, all of Panem is going to be ready for a show."

"Speaking of shows, they are showing a special today about Kilsa and how she won," Alidia said, moving over to turn on the television. Flamiken rolled her eyes, once that television went on, no work got done. But she had also seen the commercials for the show, and she really wanted to see it as well.

A small girl with red hair and blue eyes filled the screen. How the thirteen year old from District 12 had won was beyond Flamiken. The first win that Twelve had ever seen. She would be the mentor this year, Twelve would finally have a mentor that came from their District. Previous mentors had come from other Districts, it changed year to year. Poor Kilsa's mentor had been a mean victor from One. Kilsa hadn't received a single gift from a sponsor, yet somehow, she had still come up on top. She really was a lovable girl, and had the sweetest smile ever.

"Put on subtitles Alidia, we have work to get done," Flamiken said.

"And ideas for an arena?" Thaver asked. He was the one who usually came up with arenas, but lately, he had been lacking in the creative juices.

Flamiken nodded, she had been racking her brain trying to come up with one, and she had just figured out the perfect way to start her time as Head Gamemaker. She wrote her idea up on the board and eyes light up, and smiles emerged.

"That's perfect!" Wendetta screeched, Flamiken was surprised her ears weren't bleeding yet. "That's never been done before! And I can come up with some great mutts to hide away."

Well that was one Gamemaker pleased. Only five left to go.

Alidia turned the volume up on the television as Kilsa and Caesar began to talk. Flamiken didn't bother to scold her.

"How does it feel to be the first winner from Twelve?" Caesar asked Kilsa. It was his first year being an interviewer. He was young and motivated. He was a great interviewer, and Flamiken expected great things from him. He made the tributes feel safe, and that was a good quality to have. The safer a tribute felt, the more likely he or she was to open up and spill juicy secrets.

"I knew I was going to win," Kilsa replied, "the other tributes were weak and stupid. They underestimated me and what I was capable of."

"They sure did, you really did take us all by surprise when you turned into a killing machine. You scored a two, you had a horrible mentor, and the worst costume in the history of the Games, yet, you still came out on top."

Kilsa smiled, her teeth were white and sharp. She had killed two tributes with those teeth, Flamiken recoiled as she saw them.

"Do you have any advice for our tributes that will soon be reaped."

"Don't be afraid to let the monster in you come out, it's the only way to get ahead in the game."

That was for sure. Kilsa had gone in looking like a scared thirteen year old, and had emerged a monster who had killed seven just by herself. Not the highest record, but it was pretty up there.

"It would be fun to get her back in," Volouth said as he slobbered from the mouth. He had always been a fan of the girl tributes. Flamiken rolled her eyes. She had a feeling they would be doing that a lot.

"Doubt we'd be allowed to do that," Flamiken scoffed, however, it was a good idea. She would have to brooch it to the President. Ha. "But I do know what we can do."

The others stared at her, intrigued as to what her idea could be. Flamiken was well known for her interesting ideas.

"We have been holding these games for, what now, thirty three years? And we like to rig the reapings, we do it all the time. But you know what we haven't done yet?" The others were on the edge of their chairs as she spoke. "We haven't reaped the children of the Victors." She paused for effect.

The others gaped at her with wide open mouths. She almost grinned like a cheshire cat. Almost.

"Now that we have enough Victors with children, it is time to reap the children and show that not even the Victors are safe. Not all of the tributes will be Victor's children, just about six or so. Not enough to make it painfully obvious that we rigged the games."

There was a chorus of agreement throughout the room.

"I'll start researching which children should be selected," Volouth said happily. Flamiken rolled her eyes. Of course he would volunteer for that job. He always volunteered to figure out which children should be chosen when they decided to rig the reapings. Because he liked to choose the girls that were hands down stunning.

"Can we get food now, I'm starving," Easha said as she stood up, the chair scrapped against the floor, causing Wendetta to wince at the sound.

"Ow, Easha!" Wendetta complained. The others just stared at her and rolled their eyes. "What? That was an awful sound," Wendetta replied.

"Now you know how we feel," Volouth muttered. Well, at least Flamiken didn't have to say it herself. She chuckled and dismissed them. Flamiken stood in the Gamemaker room, all by herself and smiled. She had done it, Head Gamemaker! The most coveted job in the Capitol and it was hers now. All hers. Life couldn't get any better.

To have an evil plan, you have to be willing to hurt anyone and everyone.

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><p><strong>The tribute list is as follows<strong>

**District 1**: Victory Clemmings and Zephyer Cage

**District 2**: Tallulah Neirth and Castiel De la Vega

**District 3**: Fiver Flynn and Cord McCauley

**District 4**: Kendra Riva and Pontus Thetis

**District 5**: Illana Pace and Neo Metal

**District 6**: Lyrah Henley and Albacore Lockheart

**District 7**: Joliet Richemont and Linden Faith

**District 8**: Hannah Matthews and Charles Aviston

**District 9**: Charisma Borderly and Arien Sledge

**District 10**: Chameleon Bangladesh and Roan Kingsbury

**District 11: **Acacia Flylone and Leaf Racore

**District 12**: Dusty Dizzer and Myne Coalen

And for all of you wondering, I did not spell Maize wrong, there is an I in there for a reason! Guesses are welcomed.

While you're waiting, go check out my other stories! This is the prelude to "Death Is Just A Game," followed by "Fear Is Just A Word," and ends with "Freedom Is Just A Dream."


	2. Tory and Zep

**Victory Clemmings, District 1**

Red was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes in the morning. Damn bangs. She blew her hair out of her eyes and shifted to her side. Sleep wouldn't come back, so she finally gave up and rang the bell for Thread.

It didn't take long for Thread to show up in her room with a tray of chocolate croissants and a huge glass of orange juice. There were advantages to having both of her parents as victors of past games. Neither of them had to work anymore, so they spent their days training Tory to become a victor just like them.

Not a word was said as Thread silently placed the breakfast tray in its usual spot on top of her dresser. She hadn't expected him to say anything. In fact, being an avox, Thread couldn't speak. It didn't stop them from communicating in other ways though. It didn't take long before Thread came over to her bed and climbed in next to her. His body was warm and soft, and she loved running her fingers across his skin.

The smells of the buttery croissants finally got to her. Thread could sense her wanting, so he got up, and retrieved breakfast for her. There was something so comforting about eating breakfast in bed, and Tory wished that she could have more days like that. But her parents usually had her up before the crack of dawn to train. Not today though, not on the day of the reaping. She didn't have to train today. Her parents were sleeping, so she had the morning to spend it the way she wanted. Which included breakfast in bed and Thread. Sometimes she wished that she had the type of relationship with her parents where she could tell them all about her relationship with Thread. But she knew they would never approve, and she didn't want to start a fight with them.

The clock on her nightstand was creeping closer and closer to reaping time. She should get up and start getting ready for the day, but she was so comfortable lying in bed with Thread that she really didn't want to. The reaping was such an inconvenience.

Noises and voices floated into her room. Thread and Tory exchanged a panicked look. Her parents were awake. Very soon there would be a knock on her door, one of her parents telling her to get up. Thread flew out of the bed and went over to the tray, grabbing it so he could have that as an excuse for being in Tory's room.

Sure enough, a sharp rap disturbed her door.

"Victory," Silk said in her scratchy voice. It used to make Tory wince, but now she was used to it and had accepted the fact that her mother had been damaged during the games. Silk had been caught in a terrible storm of raging fireballs, causing her to lose her hair and affecting her voice. But Silk had won, despite the tragedy that had befallen her. "Are you up? Have you had breakfast yet? Can I come in? Are you decent?"

"Yes, yes, yes and yes," Tory called back, the door budged open and Silk came in. When Tory was younger, all she noticed about her mother was the bald head. Now, Tory was able to see her mother's other features. Such as the sharp blue eyes that Tory had inherited, the too small nose and the pinched lips. Tory really was her mother's daughter.

"Avox," Silk said coolly as she caught sight of Thread. Tory had to bite back a bitter retort. "Go get me my breakfast."

Thread ducked out of the room without a second glance at Tory. It was so difficult to be indifferent to him when her parents were around, but it was something she had to deal with.

"He's so vile," Silk shivered, going over to Tory's closet and rummaging around. "Dear, do you know what you are going to wear?" Tory just shrugged as her answer. Silk clicked in disappointment, "well, what about your training outfit? You look good in cashmere, and I just polished your boots."

"Sounds good," Tory agreed, grabbing a clean white blouse. "Will you do my hair, mother?" Tory asked. Silk smiled. She loved doing Tory's hair since she didn't have any of her own curls to have fun with.

"Look at my gorgeous girls," Tassel said as he came into Tory's room. She smiled up at her father. "Hurry up now, we need to be in the square soon," he said before leaving Silk and Tory.

"All done," Silk said a few moments later, after teasing Tory's hair into curls that framed her face. "You look darling sweetie, but we really better get to the square."

The small family of three headed down the path and joined the crowd. Tory found her two friends, Lace and Shade, and the three girls signed in and found their section with the other seventeen year old girls. It wasn't long before the girl's name was pulled, "Victory Clemmings."

Tory felt her heart constrict. Crap. That was her. She was going to have to go into the games. Which actually kinda sucked because even though she had been trained for the games, she wasn't that keen on actually participating in them. Maybe, just maybe, someone would volunteer in her place. It seemed unlikely though. All the girls knew that Tory was the daughter of two victors and that she had been trained her whole life. No one would want to face the wrath of Silk and Tassel Clemmings if Tory's chance of participating in the games was taken away.

Tory headed to stage with her head held high.

The boy's name was pulled, and a boy from the fifteen year old section joined Tory up on stage. Volunteers were called for. Tory looked out into the sea of faces, practically pleading for another girl to volunteer. But they were all silent. Just as she thought. No one would volunteer for Tory.

There was a volunteer for the boy though. In the form of Zephyr Cage, a kid she knew from school. They were in the same year. He was pretty cute, and she would have asked him out if she didn't have Thread. But Zep was the type of boy who kept everyone at least an arm's length away, if not more. She didn't blame him, after what he had been through, it was pretty obvious why he was very untrusting of others.

The two of them shook hands, Zep very reluctantly. Several minutes later, Tory found herself sitting in a room waiting to say her goodbyes.

"Oh finally," Silk said as she swept into the room. "Victory, I'm so proud of you, this is your chance to show the world that you are just like your parents." Tory nodded along.

"You'll do fine dear," Tassel said, although his kind words didn't really ease her fear. And then he worsened her dread by saying, "In fact, if you don't win the games, then you can consider yourself a failure in this family."

"I'll win, father," she promised him. He nodded once. Silk gave Tory a sad smile. They kissed her goodbye and she watched them walk out of the room. Thread was the next to show up. The one person that Tory didn't want to leave. He had a pad of paper and a pen. There was already a message written on it for her.

"When you win, we'll take the winnings, run away and finally live happily ever after."

She grinned at him. She could always count on Thread to make her feel better. She wanted to kiss him goodbye, but the one of the Peacekeepers was glaring at them. Instead, Tory leaned in, "I'll win, I promise."

A big grin lit up his face as the Peacekeepers led him away. She would always remember the look on his face as he saw her for the last time.

**Zephyr Cage, District 1**

Purple wasn't his color. Not in the least bit. In fact, out of all the colors, he would have to say that purple was the worst color ever invented. In fact, if he had it his way, he would just get rid of purple forever. And Mondays. That was the worst day of the week by far. Fridays were the best. Mondays just sucked.

But he didn't have a choice in the matter when it came to the tips of his hair. He still cursed his mother for making him dye his hair purple, forever staining the tips of his otherwise beautiful black locks. Damn mothers, they thought they were in charge of their sons. It really was annoying.

"Zep, are you awake?" There she was now, with her high pitched, airy tone. She belonged in the Capitol more than District One. She loved glamour and riches. She was very ditsy and cared more about appearance than being a motherly figure. In fact, when Cotton died, Evette was more worried about what Cotton would be buried in, rather then the fact that Cotton was dead. "Zep, get your suit on. We don't want to be late."

Zep hurried to put on his favorite suit. Now black, that was a brilliant color. And he looked so dashing in black. Especially when he paired it with a tie and polished dress shoes. But his mom wasn't a black person. So he slipped into the white suit that his mother adored and tied the purple tie that matched the tips of his hair. Had he mentioned how much the color purple sucked? It just did. He absent-mindedly played with the pink ribbon that he always wore around his wrist. It had belonged to Cotton. It was his now, his way of keeping her close at all times. And at least it wasn't purple.

He admired himself in the mirror. Even with the white suit and purple tie, he still looked hot. He smiled at his reflection**.** _Well hey there**,** hot stuff! _

"Aw, you're so cute," Evette said as she stood in the doorway and admired her son. "Now come along. We must get to the square. We want to make a decent entrance, don't we?"

"I have plans with Satin," Zep replied**.** "She's waiting for me." Zep ran out the door before Evette could stop him.

Satin was his only friend. Their personalities were almost exactly identical. Satin was just the more feminine version of him. Usually strong personalities such as theirs clashed and created massive storms and such, but for some odd reason, the two of them got along quite well.

A head of brown curls greeted him. Satin was kneeling in the garden, plucking the petals off the flower heads.  
>"He loves me not," Satin said as she pulled off the last petal and jumped to her feet.<p>

"Who doesn't love you?" Zep asked her.

"I have no idea, everyone loves me!" Satin grinned, and Zep was briefly reminded of the girl who had won the games a few years back. "So, are you volunteering this year?"

"Thinking about it."

"Well you should. I mean, we both know you can win since I've already won and you're just like me."

"And then I can dye my hair back to its original state." Zep nodded, that sounded great. His mom wouldn't be able to keep him from dying it black if it was his money. "I can't wait till the day I can move out and not have to listen to anyone telling me what to do."

"Tuck your shirt in," Satin said as they headed down the road to the square to get the reapings over with.

"I volunteer," Zep called when volunteers were asked for. The boy on stage gave Zep a grateful expression as Zep headed to take his place and shook hands with Victory. She had quite a grip. And she was the daughter of two victors, so she would be hard to beat. But he knew he could do it.

Would anyone actually bother to show up to say goodbye? Well, besides Satin. He knew he could count on her. Sure enough, Satin was the first to walk into the room.

"You did it!" She squealed. Satin sure had changed since the first time Zep had met her. He was enjoying her cheerful self better then her depressed self. But she hadn't been depressed in ages, not since she won her games. A far cry from the girl who had tried to commit suicide and failed. Cotton had been the one to find Satin. The one to introduce Satin and Zep. "I knew you could. You can join me in the Victor's Village now."

Zep tried to smile back. But it was difficult for him.

"Look, just because Cotton failed doesn't mean that you will. You have the strength that she didn't have."

"I know."

"I'll see you soon," Satin said, flipping her hair as she flaunted out of the room, leaving Zep rolling his eyes behind her.

His parents walked in next. Evette looked like she had just walked out of a painting. Her hair was big and colorful, her eyelashes were painted silver and she looked like she belonged in a circus or something. Yup, definitely a circus. How he had gotten her as a mother was beyond him.

"Oh good, now you can win, unlike Cotton, and get us that house in the Village that we so deserve. And then I can have a fast ticket to the Capitol whenever I want!"

"Look Zep," his dad, Poise, said, "Cotton was in the games, she died. That was embarrassing enough. If you die, then you bring dishonor to this family."

In other words, Zep had to win.


	3. Tallulah and Castiel

**Tallulah Neirth, District 2**

Yellow rays of bright sun tickled her skin and woke her up. Grumbling, Tallulah pushed herself out of bed. She wasn't a morning person. If she was the type of person who liked shirts with pictures and funny sayings on them, then she would have a shirt with a very pissed off cat with _I don't do mornings_ stitched across the bottom. But she wasn't that type of person.

"Baby," the soft voice of her mother wafted into the room, accompanied by the smells of bacon popping in hot grease. They only ever had bacon on reaping day. Their treat, or so her father said.

"Come on down, breakfast is almost ready."

Tallulah rolled her eyes, even though she knew her mother couldn't see. "Coming," Tallulah responded as pleasantly as she could muster. She slipped on the pale purple dress, and the cool silk tickled her skin, causing goose bumps to rise. She grimaced at her reflection in the mirror. She looked really girly, but that was the whole idea. Play on her innocence. She scoffed. She was anything but innocent. But hey, what others didn't know wouldn't hurt. And she was only playing the game of life. To get ahead in life, she had to work her strengths, and her girly looks usually helped her get what she needed.

The rest of her family was already in the kitchen surrounded around the table when she walked in. The bacon had already been distributed, and not evenly either. Guess that was what happened when she was late.

"Mother, I do believe that Arvin has unfairly taken more then his share of the bacon."

Arvin glared at her but handed over two pieces. Tallulah smiled sweetly at him. She was good at getting what she wanted. Real good.

After breakfast, Tallulah got out of cleaning and washing dishes by claiming she had just painted her nails. Well, she had. And it would be such a shame to chip the fresh paint. She slipped out of the house and headed down the road. Nerina, her sister, lived a few streets away. Tallulah hadn't visited Nerina since the baby had been born. Babies weren't that cute in her opinion. And besides, Tallulah had been the baby until that little blabbering thing had come along. Stupid babies held a cute factor with others, bumping Tallulah out of the youngest member in the family spot. Nowadays, all she heard from her family was how cute the baby was. Tallulah had almost thrown up in her mouth on several occasions.

So Tallulah went to Calder's the long way so she wouldn't have to pass by Nerina's house. Well, apparently exercise was good for the heart. At least, that was something she had heard. She wasn't sure if it was true or not though.

Calder was waiting for her on his front stoop. He grinned as she came up the walkway. She was a good foot shorter then he was, making her feel even younger then she looked. And she sure as hell didn't look 15. She'd never be able to sneak her way into a bar. He reached down with ease and messed up her hair like an older brother would do to a younger sister. But she already had an older brother and didn't need another one.

"Race you to the square?" Tallulah asked. Calder chuckled.

"Everything's a game to you, isn't it, Tall?"

"It's Tallulah," she said, a sentence she was very used to by now. Calder claimed that if he called her Tall, then maybe, just maybe, she would grow a few inches. She didn't have faith in his logic though. "And last one to the square is rotten egg."

She didn't even wait to see if he was in agreement. Her legs pumped as she raced down the road, dodging other people and skirting around the children of the district. There were so many of them. Why did people have to reproduce?

She won. Of course she did. She was signed in and in her correct spot before Calder even made it.

It wasn't long before the mayor got up to read the treaty. Then soon enough the girl's name was being called, followed by the boy's name.

It didn't matter who the names were. "Tallulah Neirth," she said when volunteers were called for.

"No, me," another girl's voice called out from the eighteen year old section. Tallulah made a face. She really should wait until she was eighteen. But she was just so impatient.

"I volunteered first," Tallulah shot at the other girl. Not that it really mattered. When there were multiple volunteers, the mayor got to pick. She was screwed, since he wasn't going to choose Tallulah over the eighteen year old. She had to do something fast. "What about rock, paper scissors?" Tallulah called out. The mayor shrugged and the girl raised her eyebrows but didn't object. Best out of three. Tallulah was accustomed to winning, and she would win the rock, paper, scissors. And of course, she did.

No one volunteered for Castiel De la Vega. Of course not. Because he was the son of a victor and Castiel was in training to be in the games. Everyone knew that his chances of winning were pretty high. People feared him because of who his father was. Not that she blamed them, as Castiel's father was very frightening.

Tallulah headed to the justice building to say goodbye. With a pasted on smile, she kissed her mother on both cheeks. "You'll do marvelous," her mother simpered. Tallulah just nodded along.

"I wish you wouldn't have done that," her father shook his head in slight disappointment.

"Oh father, I'll be back," she promised him. "You know I will be."

"I should have volunteered this year," Arvin complained. "And I would have too, but Castiel would not have been happy."

"I'm glad you didn't, son," her father said. "I need your help at the shop anyway."

No tears were shed as Tallulah's family was escorted out and Calder came in.

"Do you have a token?" He asked her. She nodded and spun the small pebble between her thumb and forefinger. He had given it to her two years ago. It was her good luck charm. He grinned at her. "Give them hell, Tallulah. And beware of Castiel, as he'll probably be your biggest competition."

She nodded because she knew that was true. She had seen what he could do with a sword, and it wasn't pretty. Well, depending on your point of view. Maybe the end result of slaughtered squirrel could be seen as pretty.

With yet another pasted on smile, Tallulah walked through town and got on the train without bothering to glance over her shoulder at the district she had called home. She'd be back.

**Castiel De la Vega, District 2**

Green grass stains lined the knees of his favorite pants. His mother would kill him. If she was still alive, and of course, she wasn't. So it was a moot point. His father wouldn't give a rat's ass about the grass stains on the knees. He was doubtful that Roman would even notice. Roman was too busy intimidating the rest of the district and trying to shape Castiel into a killing machine. Although, to be quite frank, Roman was doing a great job. Castiel would probably not hesitate to kill Roman if given a chance.

Especially since Castiel knew the truth behind his mother's death. He knew, but he couldn't prove that Roman had set fire to the house and burned it to the ground. Castiel and his brother Zach had gotten out, but Cassiopeia and her current boyfriend had not.

Roman had been livid when Cassi moved out, taking the two boys with her. And when he found out she had moved in with another guy, well, Roman had blown a gasket. Some guys just couldn't handle being cheated on. Roman was one of them. And he had gotten his revenge.

Castiel didn't linger in the house. He didn't want to run into his father. Instead, he went down to the square early. His only friend, Addie was waiting for him. She grinned when she saw him. Addie jumped off the stone wall where she had been sitting and skipped over to him. It always amazed him how full of life Addie was. She was a sweet girl, but very prying.

"Great day for a reaping," Addie said, somewhat sarcastically. "Did you know that it has never once rained on a reaping? Go figure."

"Guess the weatherman doesn't realize what a depressing day reapings really are," Castiel replied.

"Or he just has a nasty sense of humor." Addie looped her arm in his and started talking his ear off as they strolled around town, almost like a couple. But everyone in town knew that they weren't. Castiel tuned her out as they walked. He had never been very good at the listening part of conversations. Actually, nor was he any good at the talking part either.

Before he knew it, the square had filled up and it was time to part from Addie and find his spot in the designated area for the sixteen year old boys. A space was cleared for him. Everyone always gave him a wide girth. It was because most people were afraid of Castiel. It wasn't even his fault.

It was because he was Roman's son. The man who was well known for having won the 10 games with his ruthlessness. Being Roman's son, Castiel was used to the nasty rumors that spread around town like the fire that had burned down his house.

One nasty rumor in particular was the one that claimed it had been Castiel to start the fire, knocking him even further down the social pole. It was false though. No one believed him.

The girl's name was pulled first, like always. A small eighteen year old girl was the victim. She would probably be replaced. But when his name was pulled, he knew, without a doubt, that no one would replace him.

Sure enough, Tallulah, a girl he hardly knew, played rock/paper/scissors for the opportunity to go. She won. Castiel didn't really see her as the type to be able to win the games. She just seemed so innocent on the outside. But he knew that one should never be judged by looks alone. He knew that from first hand experience. He hated being judged because he was the son of Roman, but it happened all the time.

Sure enough, that fact kept the others from volunteering for him. No one would volunteer to save Roman's son. Whatever, it didn't bother Castiel. Roman had trained Castiel. It was more then possible for Castiel to follow in Roman's footsteps and win the games. And that was what District 2 wanted, a victor. It didn't really matter who took them to victory. And Castiel probably was their best shot.

Roman was the first to come say goodbye. It wasn't teary eyed or anything. In fact, Castiel had the strangest urge to punch Roman in the eye. He really was disgusted by his father.

"Why'd you even bother to come?" Castiel growled at his father. The mere sight of Roman caused Castiel's stomach to knot up in pain.

"To show my son support."

"Show your support by getting out of my sight," Castiel responded, he didn't even need to try and sound nasty. Roman shrugged and left the room without another word. Castiel's younger brother, Zach came in.

"I can't believe no one volunteered for you," Zach shook his head in amazement. Zach hated not being able to understand things like that. He liked knowing the reasons behind actions. Castiel didn't really care.

"It's 'cause of Roman, you know that. Because Roman won, everyone thinks I can, too. Plus, everyone in our district knows that Roman taught me himself. I _am_ the best."

Zach nodded, acknowledging that that was true. "So you'll be back."

"Of course, Zach," Castiel wished he was the type of person to give hugs, but he wasn't. Zach looked like he could use a hug though. "I wouldn't want to leave you to fend off Roman by yourself."

Zach made a face, "I can handle dad."

"I know."

"I'll miss you big brother," Zach said, doing what Castiel felt uncomfortable doing. But Zach really needed to hug his older brother, so he did.

Addie was the last to come say goodbye. She rolled her eyes at him.

"Oh Castiel, how are you holding up?" She asked, but they both knew she wasn't really going to get the answer she wanted. Feelings were wasted on him. Much to her chagrin. What was it with females and always wanting to talk about feelings? "Fine, don't answer. But it's okay to feel frightened and betrayed. I know Ortho really wanted to volunteer this year. You should have seen Ortho's face when your name was picked. He was livid! 'Cause he knew he couldn't volunteer, not with you being chosen. That really sucks you know. I'm going to miss you."

Castiel just nodded and she sighed.

"You know, it's okay to say _I'm going to miss you too Addie_."

"I'll see you later."

Addie shook her head in disappointment but didn't say anything. It might have just been the trick of the light, but he could have sworn he saw something glisten in her eyes before she strode out of the room.

Girls were _so_ aggravating. Although, she was probably saying the same thing about him. He shrugged his shoulders and got on the train next to Tallulah. She didn't say a single word. That was fine by him.

* * *

><p>So what do you think about Tallulah and Castiel? Likable? Unlikeable?<p>

Reviews would be lovely.

~*Misty*~


	4. Fiver and Cord

**Fiver Flynn, District 3**

Lilac was the color of the shirt that she chose to wear to the reapings. A very faded lilac color that was almost white and made her skin look even more washed out and pale. But being from Three, she was very used to the color pale. And yes, pale was a color. Just ask anyone in her district. Most people never really got to see the sun, always being inside the factories. In fact, Fiver couldn't even tell you what Vitamin D was. And apparently she was deficient in that vitamin. Either that, or she was an albino. And with her almost white hair and matching eyelashes, the only thing that convinced her she wasn't an albino was her light blue eyes. She had considered getting red contacts though. But with her five other siblings, her parents didn't have extra cash to go blowing on colored contacts.

Mornings in her house were always loud and hectic. It was impossible to sleep past seven. So while she got dressed in her faded lilac shirt and faded blue jeans (she liked the faded look), her sister was running around screeching at the top of her lungs. There was music blaring down the hall, and from the beat, Fiver knew that it was Blitz turn to choose the music of the day. Just another day in the Flynn household.

"Hey, Five, should I wear the orange or the green earrings?" Ottolie asked Fiver.

"They're both too loud, Three," Fiver replied. Ottolie stuck her tongue out. Fiver just rolled her eyes. She was the only one of her siblings that had been named after a number. She was number five in the family of six children, and the only one that had been stuck with the order of her birth as a name. The others had all been blessed with normal names. So she had no qualms about throwing numbers at them too. Ottolie especially hated being called Three.

Fiver wasn't one for sticking out. She liked disappearing into the crowd. Hence the pale faded colors. She was a fan of pale, worn-out and washed-out. Not a fan of bold colors and loud noises.

Downstairs, the house was filled to the brim with people. Even her two older brothers who had both moved out eons ago, were crowding around the table.

"Hey! It's Five!" Basra and Arlo, or One and Two as Fiver liked to call them, said as she walked in. Both of their significant others were there. Basara was married and Arlo engaged. Fiver couldn't wait until the babies started coming so she could be an aunt. In her opinion, an aunt was much better then being a mother. Because being an aunt, she could always hand the baby back to the mother. But her brothers said she had to be patient.

Patience was a virtue that Fiver had not been blessed with. She had been given stubbornness instead.

"Where's the butter?" Her mom, Althie, asked as she bustled around the kitchen, opening drawers and glancing in cupboards.

"On the table," Fiver said. Her mom had been very forgetful lately, and it worried Fiver.

"Oh, there it is," Althie replied, giving Fiver a kiss. "What would I do without you?"

"I can think of a few things," Arlo shot through the kitchen in a joking tone.

"Oh hush."

But it got Fiver thinking, what _would _they do without her? She didn't think about it too hard because soon enough they were all squishing around the table. Hands darted around, trying to get food before it disappeared. It was something Fiver had learned at a young age. She had to be quick or she wouldn't get food.

And by the look of her brimming plate, she had learned her lesson well.

As the rest of her family talked about reapings (a very boring topic if you asked her), Fiver pretended to be interested in the dried out meat on her plate. She called it mystery meat because she wasn't for sure what exactly was in it.

"I'm sure an older kid will get chosen. I mean, this is 3, so children here have more tessera." Fiver wasn't really paying attention to who was talking. But she found herself nodding her head. It was true. She was seventeen, and the odds of her being picked were pretty high. With six children, her parents had their work cut out for them. And even though they tried their hardest and they were pretty well off, Fiver had taken tessera before. Her name would be in that ball quite a few times.

"Well we really only have to worry about Meer, Fiver and Blitz, and we've been lucky so far, so there's no reason why we have to worry now."

"They're my children, I'll always worry. In fact, it's my _job_ as a mother to worry."

"Stop, you're bumming me out," Fiver finally said, pushing back in her chair and standing up. "I'll see you all at the reaping."

Fiver strode out of the house before she could get in trouble for talking to them that way. In fact, she was almost always getting yelled at for her bluntness. She had just finished a three day grounding yesterday because she had told a guy at school that his mustache made him look like Hitler. It had gone past his head 'cause he didn't know who Hitler had been. But Fiver liked pre-Panem history, and knew exactly how bad of an insult it was.

The square was already brimming with people. She was surprised that the sidewalks had never been broken before with all the weight that they had to put up with on this day.

It wasn't long before she saw the rest of her family file in. She didn't look their way. Instead, she pretended to listen to the mandatory speeches. But the truth was, she wasn't paying attention and almost missed the female name.

"Fiver Flynn."

"Well fuck," she cursed. The other girls who were around her turned and glared.

Fiver rolled her eyes. Girls in District 3 were so against bad words. Fiver thought there was nothing wrong with a good curse word every now and then. In fact, some times, like now, a good curse word was needed.

She was joined up on stage by "Cord McCauley" a boy who emerged from the fifteen year old section. A boy who was best friends with her brother Blitz. She caught her brother's attention, he did not look happy at all. Poor kid, his sister and a friend of his. Fiver tried to give him a reassuring smile.

Fiver and Cord shook hands and then it was off to the Justice building to say goodbye. She hated that word. Goodbye. Sounded so final and unemotional. Her family rushed in, and she felt like a store opening up in the morning on Christmas Eve.

"You jinxed it," Arlo shot at their parents.

Fiver looked at her mother, really looked at her mother, for the first time. Althie looked pale and sunken in. Fiver had the strongest urge to comfort her mother like her mother was supposed to do for her. Why did she feel like the adult in this situation instead of the child?

"Goodbye Fiver," her brothers and sister said, taking turns giving her bone shattering hugs.

"Fiver, you and Cord can't both go," Blitz complained, "This isn't fair. My favorite sister and my best friend."

"Hey!" Ottolie complained, but they just ignored her like always.

"I'm going to go say goodbye to Cord now, but Fiver, please take care of yourself."

"I will Blitz, and don't worry. I'll try to keep Cord alive for as long as possible, too."

Blitz gave her a hug and then left. She really hoped that she would see him again. Blitz was one of her favorite siblings. Yes, she had favorites.

"Why are we saying goodbye, and who is Fiver?" Althie asked suddenly, and the whole family looked over at her in concern.

"It's me, momma," Fiver said reaching over to smooth back Althie's hair. Althie backed up, like a scared little Bambi.

"Time's up," the Peacekeeper said, ushering them out.

Fiver didn't cry. It just wasn't her style. Instead, she held her head up high and got on the train. Maybe goodbye wouldn't be forever for her.

**Cord McCauley, District 3**

Gray skies were something that Cord was used to. Especially being from 3 where most people spent their times in factories and the sky was mostly covered by a thick layer of rain clouds.

He was used to pale and dreary. He was naturally tan though, which made him stick out like a sore thumb. Not that he minded.

At the moment, he was walking down the street with his little four year old sister. Her name was Moya, and she was the cutest little girl that was able to wrap anyone and everyone around her darling little finger.

They took walks every morning together, just the two of them. It was their bonding time. Plus, she was good for getting hot girl's numbers. Well, if he was brave enough to ask. Girls were a complicated thing that he hadn't really been able to figure out yet. There was just something about them that made them elusive and difficult to understand.

Moya had to be watched constantly because she was a very curious girl and loved to take off. Cord reached down and picked her up.

"Down, Cord, down," Moya said, her chubby little cheeks were red and very pinchable. Cord couldn't understand why babies were so adorable, but they were. Maybe that was something he should research. He did have a major project coming up for school.

"Okay Moya, but stay close."

She gave him that cute little angelic smile that always made him melt. He adored having a little sister, they were fun. Moya took off as soon as her feet touched ground and Cord took after her. For only being four, she was very quick. Chasing after her kept him in shape though. And he was getting very good at the game "Catching Moya."

She giggled when he grabbed her and began tickling her tummy.

"Stop it," she said, but the giggle and her cute little lisp told him that she wasn't being serious.

His two best friends, Marna and Blitz met him at the park. Cord kept a close eye on Moya as he sat on the swings with Marna and Blitz.

"Fiver exploded from the house in a fit today," Blitz said as his feet dragged on the ground.

"So what else is new?" Marna said. "At least you like your sister. I can't stand my brother. He's dating this new girl and I can't _stand _her even more. She's already talking about kids and wants a little girl named Atarah."

"Didn't you just get your girl pregnant?" Blitz asked.

Marna shrugged, "Betta claims she's pregnant, wants a little girl named Karla. Apparently Atarah and Karla are going to be cousins AND best friends."

"The Renn's are just corndogs," Cord rolled his eyes. "I adore Moya, but I can't see myself having a child who's mine and not my sister."

"You're so good with her though."

Moya chose that time to fall and skin her knee. Cord reacted before her face could screw up and cry her heart out.

"I better get her to mom," Cord said, "but I'll see you two later at the reapings."

They agreed to meet later at the square. And so they did. Marna was a year older so he waited over in the sixteen year old section while Cord and Blitz stood with the other fifteens. They waited with unease while the first name was pulled. A girl's name that Cord knew very well.

Blitz turned a few shades paler then ghost white as he watched his sister walk up to the stage. Cord didn't know what to say to his friend, and he didn't have time either before the boy's name was pulled. It was his own.

"What?" Blitz whispered. "No, that can't be right. Not Fiver AND you."

But it was too late. Cord found himself shaking hands with Fiver because no one was brave enough to volunteer.

His family came in to say goodbye first. Little Moya was confused and couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Why you gonna go bye-bye?" Moya said as she patted his cheeks.

"I have no choice," Cord said.

"You always have a choice," his little brother said, "but most choices lead to death, despair and pain."

"That's depressing," Cord said, shocked by what had just come out of his brother's mouth, usually Gene was quiet and didn't speak unless it was tortured out of him.

"It's like those choose your own adventure books. I always tend to chose the path that ends horribly."

"That's probably not the best thing to talk about right now," Electra said in her soft and soothing voice. "Cord, I know you're feeling like you have no chance, but you do, albeit a little one, but it's still there."

"You can do it son," Ramon said, "remember what I showed you, the plates?"

Cord nodded. How could he forget? Every year his father took him to work to show Cord how the plates were rigged.

"Good luck brother. Sometimes it's difficult to chose the right path, but always follow your first instinct."

It was the best advice that Cord for ask for. He wrapped his arms around his parents and they disappeared from the room, hopefully not from his life.

His friends Marna and Blitz came in next. Blitz already had that face of despair.

"You and Fiver would make a good alliance," Blitz said as he nervously wrung his hands, trying to find a delicate way to say it. "She said she's willing. And you know how Fiver is, she's smart and determined. She'll be a good person to have."

"I know, but she's weak and has no weapon knowledge."

"She's willing to learn," Blitz pushed.

"Relax Blitz**, **having an alliance with Fiver really isn't a bad idea."

Blitz relaxed just a bit, but Cord still felt bad. He said goodbye and Blitz left, leaving just Cord and Marna.

"Good luck with the baby. You'll be a great dad."

"Thanks," Marna said, "but sometimes I think it would be easier to be a tribute in the Game then to be a father."

Cord laughed. Honestly, he'd rather be a father then a tribute. Especially if he was guaranteed a baby as sweet as Moya.

Life wasn't a guarantee though.


	5. Kendra and Pontus

**Kendra Riva, District 4**

Blue waves lapped at her feet where she stood. The sand felt good between her toes. It was early in the morning, so no one was awake yet, leaving her on the beach by herself. Looking up at the sky, she saw the pretty hues of pinks and purples. The sun was rising, taking the stars away for the day. Usually she could see the fishing boats in the distance, but no one was out today. Reaping day always meant a day off work and a morning of sleeping in. Well, for everyone _but_ her. Any excuse to get out of the house and away from her family, and she took it. She didn't have a bad home life, but she didn't love it either.

Kendra walked the beach, glad that she didn't have to worry about bumping into anybody. Up ahead, she could see the abandoned warehouses where the classic Career heads liked to train under the radar. She had been there a time or two, just to check it out but had never really been a fan of it. She'd much rather train on her own, when nobody was watching her. She wasn't a fan of stardom and constantly being watched. She hated having her photo taken. Much to her mother's dismay, Kendra would never be able to be an actress. It wasn't stage fright, not really, but it was just the thought of being watched that she hated. Most of the time Kendra liked to be left alone.

The waves cooled her feet, the sand tickled and the small minnows nibbled her toes. She had half a mind to wade further into the water. But she didn't.

Kendra couldn't swim. For being from 4, her lack of swimming abilities was something that was rarely seen. But it was her own choice. She didn't want to be like everyone else. Kendra was one of those girls that wanted to stand out, wanted to be an individual. She didn't want to be defined by her family or by her District stereotypes. Even letting the ocean water cascade over her bare feet was a huge step for her. Sometimes Kendra imagined stepping into the water, and just letting the tide take her anywhere. Kendra wasn't one to be held back. She was a fan of adventure and letting fate stepped in. She believed in fate and thought that everything happened for a reason.

Such as Keitha's name being called at the reaping. Keitha, her only friend. A kind, but somewhat dull and stupid girl. She never had been the sharpest trident on the boat. Keitha would never be able to survive going into the games.

For that matter, neither would Kendra. But she had a better shot. Watching Keitha walk through the thicket of bodies and take a stand on the stage was the longest minute of Kendra's life. Eventually, it ended, and the boy's name was being called.

"Pontus Thetis," was a year older then Kendra was. She knew of him, but didn't know him personally. Rumors about him loved to fly around the District though. She had heard many disturbing things about him. He was a spoiled child of two Victors. There would probably be no volunteers for him. Not with him being the son of two Victors. There was something wrong about volunteering for a child of a Victor, at least, in Districts 1, 2 and 4 it was wrong. An unspoken rule that it should never happen. And Kendra thought that it was probably for the best that Pontus had been reaped.

Pontus made it to the stage and took a seat next to Keitha. Keitha looked so small and vulnerable sitting there next to the hulking Career. Keitha, we her adorable curls and bright smile, did not deserve to be sitting there. She seemed out of place, like she didn't belong. Like that game they used to play in grade school. "Which of these is not like the others." Kendra had always been brilliant at that game.

"Are there any volunteers for Keitha Shell?" The mayor asked. Kendra was fighting with her inner self. It was like she had an angel on one shoulder, and a devil on the other. One was telling her to do it, one was telling her not to. She couldn't figure out if it was the angel who wanted her to go, or the devil. In then end, Kendra threw up her arm that felt like it was sinking with lead and called out.

"Me! I volunteer for Keitha!"

"What's your name?"

"Kendra Riva," Kendra replied as she made it to the stage and threw her arms around her best friend. "You're welcome," Kendra whispered as Keitha cried silently and somehow made it off the stage and back into the sea of people.

There was a volunteer for Pontus, which Kendra found extremely odd. It was a boy from the eighteen year old section. Pontus did not look happy.

"Er, I'd rather stay. I was going to volunteer anyway," Pontus said.

The mayor shrugged. "Very well, Pontus. You can stay as the tribute."

Pontus and Kendra shook hands and then Kendra was ushered to the Justice Building to say her goodbyes. She kind of wished that she didn't have to say goodbye, and for a brief second, she pondered just denying her visitors. But she knew that if she did win and made it back home, then her mother would not be happy that Kendra had denied a final goodbye. Although, if she did win, then this wouldn't exactly be a _final_ goodbye.

Her parents walked in. Her dad was a mess and her mom was shaking her head in disgust.

"Princess," her dad said, "you are so brave."

"She's an idiot," her mom said while shaking her head. "Kendra, what has gotten into you lately? I used to have high hope for you."

She swept out of the room without waiting for an answer. Kendra turned to her dad, who shrugged, "I'll talk to her. But don't let it bother you. I have faith in you darling. You've always been strong."

After her parents left, her sister came in. Shawnee was beside herself in grief.

"Oh Kendra!" She sobbed as the two sisters wrapped into a gigantic hug. "This is all my fault! I never should have left you."

"Keitha was reaped for a reason," Kendra explained calmly. "And it was my fate to step in."

It was obvious that Shawnee thought Kendra was off her rocker. "Well good luck Kendra, and don't mess it up. Mum can't handle losing another daughter."

"She didn't lose you, Shawnee."

"I married beneath our social class and she disowned me, so she good as well lost me." Shawnee spoke rationally, as if she had accepted that fact, as if it didn't bother her anymore. But Kendra knew the truth. Shawnee was hurt by the fact she had been disowned. Kendra would gladly have been disowned instead of Shawnee.  
>After Shawnee left, Keitha barreled in. "You shouldn't have done that Kendra."<p>

"I'll be fine Keitha. You would have died in the bloodbath."

"Someone else would have volunteered for me," Keitha tried to argue. But Kendra didn't agree. Keitha left with one last hug. Kendra believed in fate and knew she was doing this for a reason. If she was meant to survive, then she would. And if not, well, there was nothing she could do about it. Her life was in fate's loving hands.  
>But fate wasn't very loving.<p>

**Pontus Thetis, District 4**

Rainbow. A bright rainbow of many colors lit up the sky. The color of the gays. A very popular color in the Capitol, but not in the Districts. It was a mix of all of Pontus's favorite colors. He wasn't gay. Oh wait, yes he was. He wasn't a liar either, oh wait, yes he was.

His parents, both victors of previous games, were already awake and sitting in the kitchen talking about the games. His mom was going to be the mentor this year for the girl tribute. And his dad was going to be the mentor for the guy tribute. They were mentors a lot. The Capitol liked having married victors present for the games. They were pretty decent mentors. If you liked the demanding, forceful, brutish manor in which his father went about it. His mom was more compassionate and kind, but her tributes never really lasted long. Sometimes, force was better then kindness. Especially when it came to the games.

"Good morning," Ceto said as she smiled at her son. "How was your night?"

Nereus snorted. "Stop babying the boy, he's too soft. Aren't ya kid?"

Pontus ignored his father. Nereus could be a cruel man. But anyone who killed eleven children and kept a shrine of their pictures with red x's on them was far past the definition of cruel. When Pontus was six he actually flipped through the dictionary and was shocked when he didn't see a picture of his dad next to _cruel: /Adjective. 1. Causing pain or suffering. 2. Having or showing a sadistic disregard for the pain or suffering of others._

And next to the definition of _kind: /Adjective: Having or showing a friendly, generous, and considerate nature _was not the picture of his mother. And his wasn't next to the definition of gay either. So obviously there was something wrong with the dictionary that he had.

"You're weak son, in fact, you wouldn't last a day in the arena."

"Don't listen to him honey," Ceto clicked her tongue out her husband. "You don't want to go into the games. Trust me."

But Pontus saw a challenge in his father's word, and he wasn't one to let a challenge go unaccepted. He went to the reapings with every intention of volunteering. He found his section with the other sixteen year olds and waited while the Mayor did the same old boring speech that he uttered every year. Seriously, the speech was boring, and pointless. Pontus could say it verbatim if he really wanted to. Just to be clear, he didn't.

A girl with curly hair and a boy's name that had an "A" tacked on the end was called to be the female tribute. He didn't know her. Had never even seen her around before. He found that extremely weird cause he pretty much knew all the lookers around town. And she was quite a looker. She just wasn't his type, since she had boobs and all. Even though he was gay, he still found boobs quite fun to look at.

The girl made it to stage on wobbly legs. Poor thing, she looked frightened.

The escort's hand reached into the boy's ball and gripped a single sheet of paper. On it was written a single name. One that could make or break a child's life. Pontus wondered who it would be. Of course, it didn't really matter.

"Pontus Thetis."

When he heard his name called, he realized there was no need for him to volunteer, well, one less thing to worry about.

"Are there any volunteers for Keitha Shell?" The escort called out. Another girl volunteered. Pontus wasn't really surprised, there always were for the Career Districts. Oh crap, there _always_ were volunteers. Someone better not volunteer for him. Cause he was going, and that was final.

Keitha and the other girl, Kendra, hugged and switched places. Aw, how sweet! Taking the place of her friend. But there was something glinting in Kendra's eye that told Pontus she wasn't exactly _sweet. _

And then the escort was asking for male tributes.

And that asshole Iyler had a look about him. Now there was need to fight for his right to go. When Iyler tried to volunteer, Pontus stood up. "Er, I'd rather stay, I was going to volunteer anyway."

Iyler and Pontus had a quick standoff before the Mayor made his decision and let Pontus stay. Iyler's chance of victory was over, but Pontus's had just begun. Iyler looked adorable when he was upset, seething and disappointed. And he had the perfect hair to run fingers through. Pontus loved running his fingers through hair, especially when it wasn't his own.

His mother wasn't happy when she came into the room to say goodbye. Not that he blamed her. She was a very gentle person. Any woman who had killed three people but still sent things to the families as an apology had to be.

"Well, I never wanted children anyway," Nereus said with a shrug. He didn't bother to shake hands or wish Pontus good luck before he strode out of the room. Pontus had a feeling that Nereus was glad his only son was headed off to the slaughter house. What a bastard. Then again Nereus had been born to an unwed mother, so Pontus wasn't lying. For once.

"I love you, no matter what," Ceto said with her caring voice. "You'll be fine."

But Pontus caught a waiver in her tone. He had been sheltered as a child. A momma's boy, and this was going to be difficult for both of them to handle. So he gave his mother a hug and caught her trembling in his arms. Her whole life had been raising him correctly, and now he was all throwing it into the wind just to prove his father wrong. He was hurting his mother to please his father. Robbing Peter to pay Paul seemed a whole lot easier.

She left a trail of tears behind and a new trail came in. His three closest friends walked in. One of the girls had misty eyes to go with her name.

"Pontus," Misty said with a choked voice. "Oh Pontus, you can't."

Pontus shrugged. It didn't matter anymore. No matter what she said, he was going.

"You might as well tell him Misty, it's probably your last shot," Andy said. He had always been the realistic one in their foursome. Pontus looked between them in curiosity.

"I…I…" Misty stumbled, like a toddler learning to walk. "I love you," she whispered so softly that Pontus wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly. They were whisked away before Pontus even had a chance to react. Seriously though, how had Misty not known he was gay?

And he was sitting on the train next to Kendra even faster then a rainbow disappeared.

* * *

><p>Reviews are fun, I like to sprinkle cinnamon on mine!<p>

~*Misty*~  
><strong><br>**


	6. Lyrah and Albacore

**Lyrah Henley, District 6**

Pink was her favorite color. Well, it used to be. Until she found out that her little sister Natalie liked pink as well. Lyrah hated it when Natalie copied, so Lyrah changed her favorite color to yellow. The color of the sun. Bright rays of light, beaming down and warming her shoulders.

"Ly!" Her brother, Dally, shouted at her from the house. Lyrah turned on her heels and hurried back home. Her brother was a few years older then she was, almost twenty, and in a vey serious relationship with a very pretty girl. But he still found time to annoy Lyrah and Natalie. He was good at it too. But weren't all brothers?

Dally was waiting for her. He clucked his tongue at her disheveled hair and the mud on her dress. She had never been one to stay clean. Lyrah loved getting down and dirty. Which meant more clothes ruined, and less clothes to be passed down to Natalie.

"Oh Ly, what am I going to do with you?" He shook his head in mock disappointment.

"I see the assassins have failed again," Lyrah said, only semi-jokingly. She stood on her tiptoes to give him a quick peck on his cheek.

"I paid them off," Dally said as he affectionately put an arm around her shoulder and led her into the house.

"Hmpf, and here I thought I had gotten the assassins that don't switch sides for money!"

"Who said I paid them in money?" Dally said with a smirk.

Lyrah was denied the chance of answering with yet another smart remark by the presence of their mother.

"Darling!" Shye said as she came in and gave her daughter a kiss. "There you are!" Shye was a great mom, and Lyrah loved her to bits and pieces. Shye didn't even say anything about Lyrah's appearance, or lack of it. "Now sit, sit. It's time to eat."

The family of four sat down around the table meant for five. But their father had been dead for awhile. The Henley's didn't have great luck. Their father and even little Natalie had gotten a mysterious illness a few years ago. But where Natalie had somehow survived, their father, Coltley, had not. The three siblings had a pact that whoever had a boy first would name the kid after Coltley. Since Dally was the one in a serious relationship, Natalie and Lyrah were almost certain it would be him.

Natalie coughed as Shye put food on the table and piled plates high. They were actually semi-well off. They had been given a small sum of money for the death of Coltley, and Shya was very good a pinching pennies and making it stretch.

"You okay?" Lyrah asked her little sister with a worried tone. The last time Natalie had coughed like that was when she had been ill. District 6 was unlucky like that, illness's were always sweeping through and whipping out the population. In fact, the Henley's were surprised they had only lost one member of their family during that outbreak.

"Guess we better head to the reapings."

Lyrah's heart constricted in pain. So many Henley's had already had the misfortune of going. A grandpa, an uncle, an aunt, a cousin, and none of them had made it home. Somehow Dally had made it, as he would never be reaped now. But she still had a shot at it. Being fifteen, she was the perfect age to be reaped, especially since she had tessera. Natalie was eleven, she was safe for one last year. And then she had to be locked in fear for seven very long years. Someone in their family tree must have broken a few mirrors.

Lyrah wasn't superstitious per se, but sometimes…

"Not looking like that," Shye finally said, twisting her head in Lyrah's direction. Lyrah just looked forward blankly. "Well you can at least try to look apologetic," Shye sighed.

"We really don't have time for her to change," Dally pointed out.

"She'll hurry, won't she," Shye replied. Lyrah nodded and ran up the stairs to fling something semi-clean over her head. She grabbed a comb and ran it through her hair as they walked to the reapings. She didn't look her best, but it was better then looking her worst.

She found herself nestled in a safety net of friends. But nets weren't that safe when they constricted you and brought you out of the water and into the sun to die. And that's exactly what she was feeling when she heard a very familiar name being called.

"Lyrah Henley."

She wished that she had heard the name wrong, but she knew that she had not. That was her name. She was Lyrah Henley. And she had just been sentenced to death. How was someone supposed to react to news like this? She had seen countless reactions to names being pulled before. But now, when it was turn, she didn't know what to think.

Lyrah knew how to be strong. That was all she was while her dad and sister were lying close to death. She could still be strong. She had to be. So Lyrah did the walk of shame as she headed to the stage to meet her fate.

She waited for the boy's name to be called. A small boy that she didn't know was reaped. But he had the luck that Lyrah didn't. Because someone volunteered for him while no one did for her. An eighteen year old by the name of Albacore Lockheart. After shaking hands, Lyrah found herself being ushered to the Justice building to say goodbye to her family.

But she didn't want to say goodbye. Because that meant that she might never see them again. And se wanted to see them again. But deep down in her heart, she knew that the Henley's weren't meant to win the games. No one ever had. She would just be another notch in the bedpost.

"I'm not coming home," she said softly to her family. "But I want you all to know that I love you."

"I'll name my first girl after you," Dally said softly.

"I thought you were naming your first kid after me?" Natalie said with her little baby voice and puffed out mouth that made her look cute and hard to say no too. They called it her Nat face, instead of puppy face.

"Delaney," Lyrah said softy, "I like that name." She always had. It was a soft and delicate name, but also had a punch to it. A child that had that name would be a fighter. And Henley's needed that characteristic to survive in this harsh world.

"Then that's what I'll call my second daughter," Dally chuckled.

"Hey, what about naming a kid after me?" Shye said as she pretend glared at her three children.

"Looks like I'm having lots of children," Dally said with a smile.

"Better get started then," Shye shot back at her only son. "I'm ready for grandchildren anyway. I want a darling little granddaughter with auburn hair, a pretty smile and the ability to deal with her crazy father!"

The family laughed, and it made Lyrah yern for the life she knew that she would never have again. Because why would she, Lyrah Henley, make it home when no one else in her family tree ever had before?

"We love you Lyrah, now and always."

She knew it was true, but it didn't hurt to hear it again.

**Albacore Lockheart, District 6**

White was the color of only one type of tuna. All the other tuna were a very unattractive pink color. And the type of tuna that was white just happened to be his name. Of course, why on Panem he had been named after a fish while living in 6 was beyond him.

Well, actually, he knew exactly why he had been named after a stinking fish. His mother, Jesse, had come from Four and married his father, James. She never really quite got over leaving Four though, so she had gone back…leaving two things behind: Albacore and his little sister May. Now, he might not be able to understand why his parents had left him, but he definitely couldn't figure out who in their right minds would leave May.

May was the sweetest little eleven year old that Albacore had ever met. Well, almost eleven, as May was always quick to correct someone when they were wrong.

Albacore had always wondered if fish were like humans. Did fish abandon their young to go home? It didn't sound very parent-like. Then again, what was he supposed to know about parent-like? And they took his cat! That's what pissed him off the most. Jesse and James hadn't been the best parents, always looking to steal to further reach their goal of world domination. They were a little messed up in the head. But to take Albacore's cat, that was the worst things to have ever happened to him.

Well...one of them. He lived with his uncle Lucas, which was pretty awful. Lucas wasn't exactly the most caring of guys. And the District didn't really care, as long as children had an adult, it didn't matter what the adult did to the children.

Something had to be done. He needed to get a bagful of cash to be able to afford something decent. The only thing he could think of was extremely dangerous and kind of life-threatening. Well, definitely life-threatening.

"HEY! BRATS! GET YOUR ASSES DOWN HERE!"

And there was his uncle now. Lucas was awake, the devil was probably shaking in hell right now, thinking, "oh shit, he's awake again."

It took awhile before four sets of steps headed into the kitchen. As much as they hated being in Lucas's presence, but they also knew that the last child in the room got the worst of it. And none of them wanted to be the last. There were four of them living with Lucas. Lucas's two sons, Brock and Oak, they were the cousins to Albacore and his little sister May.

This morning, Oak, who had only just turned fourteen was the first to enter the room, followed closely behind was Albacore. Brock was the last. Brock was sixteen, and he was the most capable of handling Lucas's awful temper. He brought up the rear right after May. After catching a glimpse of May's terrified face, Albacore knew that May would have been last if it hadn't of been for Brock making her go in front of him. _You okay?_ He mouthed to her. May just barely nodded her head. Lucas zeroed in on Oak first, and Oak winced as Lucas's hand whipped across. Oak lowered his head and sat down.

Lucas's arm was shaking, he was drunk, and he was always worse when he was drunk. Albacore was next to get hit. His shoulder stung as Lucas headed on over to May.

Albacore snapped. He absolutely couldn't stand it anymore. Of course, the last time he had tried to stand up to Lucas for hurting May, Albacore had ended up waking up with a concussion. Lucas was strong for a drunkard. Lucas had put May in casts on numerous occasions, Oak had probably lost a gazillion from being smacked on the head one too many times and Brock had flirted with death more then twice.

There was no escape from Lucas. Not really. Because they had tried time and time again. And no matter what, Lucas was always there with an upright and flat hand.

Albacore went at his uncle anyway. May was trembling and Brock and Oak were shouting. But Albacore punched Lucas in the gut.

"Stupid, ungrateful brat," Lucas grunted as he fell to his knees. He really wasn't as young as he used to be, but he was still strong. Lucas kicked and got Albacore's shin.

Albacore went down just like his uncle. But Lucas was already standing up. He brought his foot down on Albacore's leg, hard.

There was a crunching sound and Albacore cried out in pain.

"You deserve more then that," Lucas sneered, turning to May.

May screeched as Lucas grabbed her wrist and flung her against the wall again and again. Each scream pierced Albacore's heart, but he was in pain. His leg was _killing_ him. But it wasn't broken. That much he knew. He knew what broken felt like.

Brock and Oak raced at their father together, and the two of them managed to knock Lucas out.

Oak pressed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, making him look like a professor**.**

"Thanks Professor Oak," Albacore said teasingly. Oak grinned.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Brock said in a stiff voice as he helped Albacore up. May held Oak's hand with her left, and her right gripped her side.

The four children hobbled down the path to the square, where the reapings were always held. May and Albacore winced at every step.

Once at the reapings, they separated into their own roped area.

Albacore wasn't paying attention as the girl's name was picked. All he knew was that it wasn't May's, and that was the only thing that mattered.

The boy's name was picked next. And it was no one that Albacore knew.

Albacore tested his leg before throwing up his hand to volunteer. It was his last chance. As the oldest in the group, it was his responsibility, besides, he had the best chance. Sure, Brock was quite capable as well, but Brock didn't love May like Albacore did. Brock wasn't as determined. Albacore was eighteen, he wouldn't be able to go next year, and a probably sprained ankle wasn't going to stop him. At least, as he walked to the stage, he hoped it was just a sprain. But the pain was sharp and shot up his leg with every step. Oh well, once he made it to the Capitol, the doctors would get to work and make him all better.

Albacore and the girl were ushered to the Justice building to say goodbye.

If Lucas dared to show his face, Albacore would start his career as a murderer a few days earlier then planned. But Lucas wouldn't show, as he hadn't even showed up for the reapings, and would be fined and given a beating for skipping the required event.

May was the first to show up, her face red and puffy. He couldn't tell if it was because she had been crying or because she had been beaten up. Probably a mixture of the two.

"Al, why'd you do it," she sobbed as she cuddled into his chest. "What am I going to do without you?"

"You still have Brock and Oak to protect you. They'll always be there for you May, I know they will."

May sighed. "It's not the same. They're just my cousins, not my brother."

"I'll win, and I'll come home with a bagful of money and then we can run away, far from Lucas."

May nodded in a very mournful way. She trusted her brother fully. After one last hug, May said goodbye and Brock and Oak came in to say hello.

"Idiot," Brock scoffed. "I mean, really, is your plan to die and leave May with one less person to keep her away from Lucas and the hell he puts her through?"

"Just keep her safe for a week or so, I'll be home soon enough, and then we can all escape his grip."

"We've tried running away before," Oak said in a small voice, "and we all know how that turned out."

They did. Lucas had caught them within an hour, and none of them were able to sit for a week. Lucas had not been happy with any of them. And told the kids that if they ever tried that again, then Lucas would personally kill them. And they believed Lucas. That was the scary part.

"We'll do our best." Brock promised as he shook his cousins' hand. "Good luck Al. You're a fighter, you always have been and you're doing this for not just you, but for May and me and for Oak."

"I trust you," Oak said with his cute little boyish voice that hadn't hit puberty yet.

Albacore's goodbyes were over, and his journey to the Capitol was beginning.

* * *

><p>So what did you think about Lyrah and Albacore? Like them? Hate them? Think they have a chance? I'm not sure if this was done intentionally, but who can name where all the names of Albacore's family is from?<p>

And by now, most of you have figured out that I have started each pov with a different color. Keep those colors in mind, they will be important later on. And go ahead and guess away, I love hearing everyone's guesses for what is going to happen.

~*Misty*~


	7. Jo and Linden

**Joliet Richemont, District 7**

Brown tree trunk stumps were the perfect seat. In fact, she had a favorite stump in the woods. It was set in a peaceful clearing of trees. There were three stumps all together, but her favorite was the one on the right. It was the last one that she had tried. The one on the left was too bumpy and rough, the one in the middle was too short and small, and the one on the right was just right. Go figure.

She had first found the small clearing when she was seven and searching for her father. It didn't help that she had no idea who her father was, or even if he had a name. And her mother wasn't exactly forthcoming in the information.

Roma would be worried if Jo didn't start heading home soon. Roma especially hated reaping days. Not that Jo blamed her mom since Roma was a Victor. Roma had won the 14th games when she was eighteen. Jo's eighteenth birthday was coming up, and it was freaking Roma out.

Actually, for Jo's whole life she had dealt with Roma's freak outs. And so Jo was trained, day after day and year after year. Jo was probably the most prepared person in all of District 7. Roma was terrified that one day Jo would be reaped just because she was the daughter of a Victor.

Trees were a blessing to Jo. She loved them. There was just something so comforting and peaceful about sitting in a forest with just the trees for company. The branches couldn't tell her when she was slouching, the leaves wouldn't tell her that she was holding the knife incorrectly, and there roots were silent about her lack of spear throwing. Even the squirrels who lived in the trees didn't laugh at her attempts to throw said spears.

"I think she's scared for no reason," Jo mused aloud as the squirrels scuttled about their day, looking for nuts to hide away who's locations would be forgotten when winter time came. Jo never understood why the squirrels hid nuts. Just eat it as soon as you find one! Duh! No good ever came out of hiding things. Unless you had a map to lead to what you had hidden. But then someone else might get a hold of the map and find the treasure. And squirrels couldn't make maps anyway. Right?

"I mean really, they aren't going to reap me _just_ because I'm a victor's daughter…right?" One of the rabbits looked up at Jo and twitched its nose. Jo let out the tiniest of smiles. The rabbit hopped away, probably to go bother the chipmunks. Jo would much rather be around animals then people. They were so much easier to get along with. But she could hear the town clock chiming in the background, signaling that it was time to make her way to the town square.

Jo didn't have time to swing home. She jogged to the square, hoping to find her mother in the crowd.

"Joliet Richemont," Jo shouted over the din to the Peacekeeper who was ticking names off of the very long list of people who were required to show up. The other seventeen year old girls were standing in their assigned area, looking bored. Jo stood off by herself, she didn't have any girlfriends her age. Actually, she didn't have _any _girlfriends.

Mayor Hardrict made his pudgy ascent up to the stage to say the mandatory words of boredom. His two sons were her only close friends. She was probably the only one who could get away with calling Mayor Hardrict something else and not get whipped for it. Well, to his face at least. It wasn't really anyone's fault that his last name sounded dirty. However, it _was_ Jo's fault for pointing it out during a major assembly when she was only thirteen. So really, it had been Jo who had brought the dirtiness of his last name to everyone's attention. Well, someone would have figured it out eventually. Seven wasn't the stupidest District around. No, everyone knew that that prize went to District 2.

Once he was done with his speech, Mayor Hard Dick (oh Jo was bad), turned the microphone over to Lovely. Well, really, what else was Jo supposed to nickname the woman with the word _lovely_ tattooed on the forehead? Did the woman lack self-esteem so much that she needed a feel good word on her forehead? And it wasn't even backwards, so when the escort did look into the mirror, it wouldn't say _lovely. _Capitol people were so stupid. Jo didn't have patience for stupid people. Not in the least.

"Let's mix it up some, shall we?" Lovely said in her high pitched voice that was anything but a feel good word. "Lads first?"

Oh good, keep the suspense. Jo rolled her eyes. Now she would have to wait another five minutes before learning which girl's fate would be ruined. Well, it gave the other girls longer to gossip. What was it with girls and gossip? Seriously, girls were so immature and such drama lovers.

"Linden Faith!"

Jo kinda knew him. They were both seventeen, and went to school together. But she wouldn't say that they were friends. He looked terrified as he made his way to the stage, and the small girl beside Jo shot to her tip toes and began to scream at the top of her lungs. Linden's eyes searched the crowd and landed on the girl next to Jo. Her name was Marla, and was in several of Jo's classes at school.

"NO!" She screamed. "Not Linden!"

But it was too late. Jo pulled on Marla. She was strong, but Jo was stronger. "Shut up," Jo hissed. "You're making a scene."

And it was true; a few Peacekeepers were heading their way. Marla shrunk deep into Jo's arms. Jo tried not to cringe away. Linden looked like he was having an inner fight with himself, trying to convince himself to stay on the stage.

"Well," Lovely said in a surprised voice, "that was entertaining, shall we chose the girl now?" She didn't wait for a response before plunging in her hand and plucking out a single name. "Joliet Richemont."

Jo drew in a tight breath. So her mother had been right. A tiny part of Jo hated her mother for that. Mother's were supposed to be right, but not when it came to this! Her mom was supposed to be wrong. Jo couldn't go! She couldn't! Sure, her mom had won the games all those years ago, but that didn't mean that Jo wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps. Not if it meant killing that boy who stood up on that stage. That boy who had caused the girl in Jo's arms to scream his name as if she had been sentenced to die as well.

"Wanna pretend to be me?" Jo whispered to Marla. "Then you can be with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Marla whispered with her big round eyes.

Jo felt her legs turn to jelly as she tried to walk on them. Marla was looking at her with pity. But what did it matter now? Jo went up to stage to stand next to Linden.

No volunteers for either of them. Linden Faith and Joliet Richemont were headed to the slaughter house. But first, a pit stop at the Justice building to say goodbyes. At least the Capitol was dignified enough for that.

"Remember everything I taught you," Roma whispered as she held her daughter tight. "All that training wasn't for nothing Jo. I taught you well, you are strong, and you can do this. You can be victorious just like I was. I know you can do it."

Roma was shaking in fear, as if she didn't believe half of what she was saying. Jo wished she could hold her mother tight and say that it would all turn out for the best. Words of comfort were the only things that Jo could leave in her absence.

"Here, take this," Roma said softly as she undid the amber amulet around her neck. It had been her token, and now it would be Jo's. "It helped me get through the games. Now it will help you."

"Thanks mom," Jo said, feeling a lump in her throat. "I'm going to miss you."

After saying the rest of her goodbyes to all the important people in her life, Jo joined Linden on the train. His eyes looked misted over, but Jo didn't comment. And he didn't comment about her own non-dry eyes.

**Linden Faith**

Orange was such a funny color. Seriously, it didn't know if it was red or yellow. Personally, he thought that orange was pointless. Not that he would ever voice that opinion out loud. And he had learned that often times when he did get up the nerve to speak, no one was really listening.

Plus, why would they name a fruit after a color? It must be a very boring fruit. Not that he would really know, because he had never eaten an orange before. It was on his list of things to do before he died though. His list was pretty huge. And only a few things had been ticked off. Finding a cure for his mother was the top item on his list. One that he could only hope would be ticked out, but he knew deep down that it would be next to impossible.

But Linden believed in the impossible. He had faith, after all. He had to since that _was_ his last name and all.  
>Linden went outside to see his sisters playing in the yard, happy and carefree. Alona, at fifteen, was sitting on the slide and pretending that the world didn't exist. Ebony, only twelve, still had a slight imagination, so she was brandishing a sword and pretending that she was Queen. There was always something magical about watching his sisters live life.<p>

Nothing magical about reaping day though. Linden went inside to play dad. He wished for the millionth time that he didn't have to. But he did. His real father was dead, his step father was dead, and his oldest brother Rowan was busy supporting two families so he was _always_ at work.

Linden went back inside to find his mom sitting in her usual rocking chair. If possible, she looked even worse this morning then she had last night. His heart broke upon seeing her. A child should not have to watch his mother die.

Rowan came, his very pregnant wife, Noli, was waddling right behind him.

"Hey, how's the belly?"

"Watch it bud," Noli replied as she eased herself down into a chair. She looked like she was about ready to pop. "This kid is going to be a soccer player or something 'cause it keeps kicking like a mad person."

Rowan looked very proud. "We finally have a name picked for it." Noli made a face, as if she still didn't agree on the name. Linden shook his head, the two of them were madly in love, but could never agree on anything. "Leo if it's a boy, and Autumn if it's a girl."

"I still don't know why you want to name a child after a season," Noli rolled her eyes, "or after an astrological sign for that matter."

After they crowded around the table and cleaned the bowls of food, the large Faith family headed to the square. They signed in and then found the respective areas.

Mayor Hardrict got up to say a few words. Of course, no one called him Hardrict, since Jo Richemont had pointed out that it was a connotation for a dirty word. At least the Mayor was a good sport about it. It didn't hurt that Jo was best friends with the Mayor's two sons. Speaking of Jo, Linden searched around for her, and found her standing next to Marla. Marla was Linden's on again, off again girlfriend. They were off right now, and they had been that way for awhile.

The escort that they always had took over. The word _Lovely_ was etched into her forehead, but Linden thought her real name was something like Nailiosivpre, or something long and unpronounceable. Maybe Lovely was a better name.

"Let's mix it up some, shall we?" Lovely said in her high pitched voice that was anything but a feel good word. "Lads first?"

Ugh. He didn't really want to get it over with. Linden just wanted to drag it out as long as possible. He didn't want to know which unlucky boy was going to be sentenced to death.

"Linden Faith!"

Oh shitake mushrooms. He was the unlucky boy that was going to be sentenced to death. Shitake mushrooms times a thousand.

"NO!" A voice in the crowd screamed. "Not Linden!" Linden knew exactly which voice was screaming it. Marla. His off again girlfriend. Well, that was unexpected. Sure, they had ended it on good terms, but still, he would rather have thought that it would be one of his sister's screaming out his name. Where were his sisters? Did they not care that his name had been chosen? Or were they locked in shock like he was, unable to move?

_Move_. He had to get his legs working. He needed to go up to that stage and allow all of Panem to see him shaking in his shoes. But he wouldn't allow that. He was stronger then that. And he wasn't going to show Panem that he was frightened. So he made himself move. And somehow, he made it up to the stage in one piece.

Marla was still screaming, Jo was holding her, trying to keep her calm. Linden wished that he could thank Jo for keeping Marla safe. He wanted so badly to run down there and wrap his own arms around Marla, but he couldn't, he knew that much. The Peacekeepers were making their way over to Marla. If Jo didn't get her to calm down, then there would be a major problem. He said a silent prayer that Jo would be able to get Marla quiet. And somehow, she did.

"Well," Lovely said in a surprised voice, "that was entertaining, shall we choose the girl now?" She didn't wait for a response before plunging in her hand and plucking out a single name. "Joliet Richemont."

Linden was still looking at Jo and Marla when the name was pulled. Add another shitake mushroom to the mix. At least it hadn't been Marla. He wouldn't have been able to handle that. But still…out of all the girls in the District, Jo had to be chosen? How was he supposed to kill her after Jo had just kept Marla calm and safe from the wrath of the Peacekeepers?

Not a single volunteer for either of them. Linden was ushered to the goodbye room where he waited on a plush red couch for his first visitor.

His family rushed in all at once, and he didn't know who to say goodbye to first.

"Maybe we should name the kid after you instead bud," Noli said.

"No, I don't want it to have to follow in my footsteps," Linden replied. "I know I have big shoes to fill and all, but still, I don't want any of your children to be reaped for the games like I was."

Noli's eyes filled up with tears and she had to leave the room. Rowan clapped Linden on the back, wished him good luck and then rushed out after his wife.

His sisters tried to act calm and collectedalthough they were anything but. Linden told them he would try his best to make it home. They nodded, tears cascading down their dirty cheeks, as if racing to make it to the chin first. They left a few moments later.

His darling mother stayed in the room the whole time, pretending to be asleep when Marla walked in, looking dazed and out of it.

"Marla," Linden began but she just lowered her eyes.

"Don't start with me, I've already gotten an earful from my parents, and from countless of other people. I know what I did was reckless, but it was also an act of love. Because Linden, I care deeply for you. And you will go to the games, and you will come home, ALIVE, because I know you can. And I don't want to live without you. I'd give you a token, but I know you already have that toy of yours that your stepfather gave you."

Marla sure knew how to talk. Linden liked her for that. The more she talked, the less that he had to. She reached over and planted a kiss on his lips. When she had first done that, years ago, a blush had crept onto his cheeks. But now, he was used to it, and it felt normal and expected.

"Look, Marla, I want you to be happy, I want you to move on with your life, forget about me and find someone else to love."

Marla opened her mouth to protest, but Linden kept on talking, "I'm not the only boy out there, there will be others. And maybe I will come home, maybe we will get married and live happily after. But maybe I won't. And if I don't, then I just want you to know that it's okay to move on and find someone else. After all, you weren't made to be alone."

Marla gave him a lopsided grin. "Well, I do think Lyle Parr is kinda handsome."

Linden rolled his eyes, "anyone but Lyle Parr. He's vile Marla. Besides, I was thinking Jaze Trappe, he seems to have a thing for you."

"But his last name is just awful, if we had kids, they would be teased and made fun of."

"Then you'll just have to teach the kids how to be comedians. No one bullies a comedian."

Marla shook her head in mock dislike before giving him one last kiss on the cheek and turning on her heel. Leaving just Linden and his mother.

"Oh baby," she said in her weak voice that always made Linden worry. "I never thought that this would happen to you. What am I supposed to say in our last moments together?"

"Tell me you love me, and give me advice to win and stay alive. Feed me with positive feelings."

She smiled, "I love you, keep your chin up, make an alliance with someone you trust, watch your back, and stay alive. You can do this baby. I'm rooting for you. I always have."

She chose that moment to have a coughing fit. And Linden pounded her back, breaking up the mucus sticking to her throat.

"When I win, we'll be able to afford the most expensive doctors in the Capitol and we'll get you all better."

She smiled. "I know."

Linden watched as his mother was taken out of the room. Linden used to think that he was going to have to watch his mother die. But he had been wrong. Now it was more likely the other way around. A mother should not have to watch her child die. But in the games, twenty three mothers had to.

* * *

><p>And that's the end of district 7. How do you like Jo? Linden? Do you have a favorite tribute so far?<p>

~*Misty*~


	8. Hannah and Chuck

**Hannah/Sarah Matthews, District 8**

Maroon. Just a fancy word for red. The color of blood. Everyone's blood was the same color. Or so they said. Hannah thought that _some_ people should have black blood, black like their souls Their cold, heartless souls.

Hannah twisted her blonde hair up into its normal bun. She could feel Sarah in the back of her mind, itching to get out. Hannah squeezed her eyes tight and tried to keep Sarah in. _No, _she thought, _I'm not letting you out. _**Bitch. **Hannah was not a fan of cursing. And she flinched. Sarah knew exactly what pissed Hannah off.

There was a knock on her door.

"Hannah, darling, is everything alright?" It was her mother, Grace.

"Fine mum," Hannah called back. "Just getting ready for the reaping." She hated getting ready for reapings, but the reapings came along once a year, whether Hannah liked it or not. For fifteen years she had been going to them. Not that she really remembered when she was a baby. But she was sure that the reapings had been the same fifteen years ago as they were now. Two children were reaped from their district, and more likely then not, two children died.

In fact, three years ago, Hannah's best friend Remy died in the games. Remy had been twelve, killed during the bloodbath by a career. Hannah would always remember the name of that career. She felt Sarah in the back of her mind again. That always happened when Hannah thought of the games. Sarah was determined to get out. Hannah fought hard, but Sarah was strong and she knew how to sidestep Hannah's control.

Sarah grinned at her reflection in the mirror. Hannah was such a lush, way too soft. Sarah undid the bun and let the blonde hair cascade around her shoulders. She looked so much better with the hair let loose. _Let me out! _Hannah screamed, Sarah just laughed.

Sarah went down the stairs and met Grace and Donald for breakfast. Hannah's parents were very annoying, but Sarah smiled at them and made polite conversation. They were complete dunderheads, which was in Sarah's favor. They never noticed Hannah's inner struggle and the fact that sometimes Sarah took over Hannah's body. Hannah was weak, and Sarah was strong. Soon enough, she would have complete control whereas Hannah would have none. _That'll never happen. _**Be quiet. **_You're such a… _**Such a what? You can't even insult me right. You're weak. **

It was when Hannah had watched her best friend die. That was when Sarah had emerged. Split personality. Sweet, innocent Hannah vs. brutal and out of control Sarah. Hannah wouldn't last a day in the games, Sarah would make it to final 8, probably even winning it all. Hmm. Maybe Sarah would volunteer. She could feel Hannah struggling, trying to get control back.

Hannah gasped as she realized she could move her fingers again. It was her. She could feel Sarah slamming in her mind, trying to get back into power.

"You okay darling?" Grace asked, her voice full of concern. Hannah nodded as she twisted her hair back up into its proper style of a bun. She hated how Sarah always let it down. Sarah knew how much it bothered Hannah though.

"Never better," Hannah whispered softly as she poured herself a glass of juice and gulped it down. Fighting to get her mind back always made her thirsty.

"Careful, you'll choke," Grace said as she grabbed the glass from her daughter. **Yes, we wouldn't want that now, would we? **

Hannah excused herself and headed down to the square where the reapings were. It was already crowded, even though they held one of the later times. Hannah glanced around, looking for someone she knew. Company was never something that she craved, but she also hated being left alone with just Sarah for conversation. **You know you couldn't live without me.** Sarah smirked. Hannah ignored the voice in her head. Sarah laughed. Her laugh was always so evil that it chilled Hannah to the bones.

There was a gaggle of girls roaming about, giggling and pointing at all the cute boys. Hannah groaned. **You're just jealous that they like me better then you.** Hannah squared her shoulders and walked over to them.

"Hey Hannah," Halley Wintry said with a flourish. Halley was fourteen, a year younger then Hannah. They weren't best friends, but they said hi every now and then. Halley's dirty blonde hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail and her hazel eyes were shinning. Hannah headed over to Halley and the group. "You're shy today, aren't you?"

Hannah nodded, lowering her eyes so she didn't make contact with the others. Halley was smart, and could usually tell when it was Hannah or Sarah, though Halley didn't actually know there were two personalities. Halley just knew when Hannah was feeling shy or feeling outgoing.

"Oh well, the shy you won't tell a secret," Halley said, her eyes twinkling. The other girls giggled. And gossip mode happened. Hannah tuned them out as she waited for the reapings to begin. Sarah was listening intently though.

"Erich's adorable," one of the girl's was saying while Hannah played with a stray piece of her hair that had come out of the bun. Hannah glanced over at the boy being pointed at. She shrugged her shoulders. He wasn't bad looking.

"Oh, everyone knows that he's Halley's," another girl pointed out, causing Halley to blush and deny the claims.

Trumpets sounded, signifying the beginning of the reapings. The girls scattered into their proper sections and waited as the square filled up. Hannah could barely move. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend she was somewhere else. She was not a fan of confinement. There was something nerve wracking about being in tight spaces with nowhere to go. She didn't know why. **It's all in your head. **Oh wait, yes she did. It was Sarah's fault. Insert curse word. **You're so weak you can't even curse in your head.** Sarah's smirk left a dirty feeling all over her body.

Because of her inner battle with Sarah, Hannah missed the speech and the Escort going to the glass ball. She didn't miss the name that was shouted out clear as a whistle though.

"Hannah Matthews."

**Now would be a good time to curse. **Hannah could only blink. That couldn't have been her name that was called. There was no possible way. She could feel Sarah laughing like a maniac. This was not good at all. Sarah was enjoying it.

"Hannah, where are you Hannah?"

Sarah grinned as she blinked and saw the world again. Hannah was now locked up tight, sreaming to be released. But Sarah just ignored her alter ego. Sarah had been waiting for this day for awhile. She had never been able to get control to volunteer, and now, she didn't have to. Sarah walked confidently to the stage and waited for the next name to be called.

"Erich Swartzchild."

Sarah watched as the pretty boy made his way to the stage. He was only fourteen. Sarah knew he would be an easy kill. She grinned at him. When volunteers were called for, no one took her place. She knew that no one would. But Erich was lucky, and Charles Aviston was the replacement. Sarah would have a bit more of a challenge killing him. He seemed more determined.

The room in which she could say goodbye to her _loved _ones was decked out in maroon. _The color of blood. _Hannah shivered. Sarah rolled her eyes. It was so annoying sharing a mind with Hannah. _It's my mind!_

"Hannah!" Grace cried out as she rushed into the room and swept her daughter up in a hug.

"I'll be fine," Sarah assured Grace. But Grace could only cry. Even Donald seemed shaken up by the turn of events, which bothered Sarah. She wanted this! She could win! She would win! Unlike that wimp Hannah. Sarah was in control now, and she would show Panem that this time around, she would be the winner!

**Charles Aviston, District 8**

Tan was the color of sand. There were many types of sand, the boring stuff in their District that was rough and uncomfortable. Golden sand that lay across the beaches in 4 was the good stuff. Or so he assumed. He'd never actually seen that sand before. But he wanted to. Well, Tahlia wanted to, so he wanted to. Anything to make her happy.

The rats in the building scuttled along the floor. He was used to them by now. In fact, years ago, they used to be his meal. And rat meat wasn't the most delicious thing ever, but to starving children, it was fit for a king. Or Queen, as Tahlia was quick to point out. The building was silent except for the creatures, and they were pretty good company. Chuck liked being in the building when the machines were quiet and everyone was gone for the day.

Of course, being the day of the reaping, no one had been in the building to begin with. Only Chuck, and that was because he had unfinished business to take care of. There was a loose floorboard by his station where he kept a square of fabric. He wanted to have the blanket done before the reapings started. He had been working on it for months. Ever since he decided that he was going to volunteer. He wanted to leave something behind for Tahlia, so she would always remember him. He turned on his machine and started to stitch in the rest of the blanket. He wasn't the best seamster. But he was getting better.

He had taken the job in the blanket factory a few years ago along with Tahlia and Kane. Tahlia had picked it up within seconds. Kane a few days later. Chuck just couldn't get the stitching down. But he tried. Because the three of them, all orphans, needed their jobs and needed the money. For the first few months, they had lived in the rafters of the factory building. Now they were living pretty comfortably in a small but cozy cottage on the edge of the District.

And for several years, it had been a fairy tale life. No adults telling them what to do, just the three of them, friends turned into a family. Life had been good. Until now. Just last year, Chuck wouldn't even dream of volunteering. And now, he had to. For Tahlia. Everything was for her. She was the most important thing in his life right now.

He thought of her golden hair and bright smile as he worked the machine and finished the blanket. An hour later, he wiped the sweat off of his brow and packed up, destroying any evidence of him being in the factory after hours.

The square was hopping with activity by the time he met Kane and Tahlia. Tahlia looked awful, but she was still a beautiful Queen to him. She always would be. And he told her as much. Tahlia took the compliment with good grace like she always did.

"What's that?" Tahlia asked curiously as Chuck quickly threw the blanket behind his back. Tahlia didn't know what Chuck was going to do today. He hadn't told her for the sole reason that he knew she'd object. Kane knew though.

"We're going to be late," Kane said quickly, changing the subject. Tahlia pursed her lips but allowed herself to be sent to her section with the other girls her age. "You really should have told her, mate. She's going to be _pissed._"

"Well the great thing is, you're going to be the one who has to deal with her pissyness." Chuck pointed out much to Kane's dismay.

"Thanks a lot, mate." Kane complained as the two of them listened to the mandatory speech and contemplated which girl would have her life altered for good.

"Hannah Matthews!"

Chuck didn't know who she was, and he watched as a small girl from the fifteen year old section daintily looked around in confusion. Poor girl.

"Hannah, where are you Hannah?" The escort called again. This time, Hannah stood up, as if she was ready to take on the world. An instant change from the scared young girl. Now she seemed lively and determined. He would have to kill her.

Then the escort was reaching her hand in the ball again, gripping a name and pulling it out.

"Erich Swartzchild!"

She seemed very happy about pulling out names and sentencing two children. Chuck was glad that he didn't hear his name, or Kane's name. They were both safe. Then volunteers were called for and he remembered that he was volunteering. He needed to go. Needed to win. For Tahlia.

Chuck made sure not to look at Tahlia when he threw up his hand and shouted out his name. Erich seemed very pleased at Chuck's announcement. Tahlia was not.

"What were you thinking!" She screeched as she barreled into the goodbye room where Chuck was waiting. He just rolled his eyes. He had expected that much from her. In fact, he would have been disappointed if she hadn't of come in making a scene. He liked it when people acted like he thought they would. He just knew Tahlia that well. "You idiot! You complete dunderhead! You're going to get yourself killed!"

"I thought that was the point," Kane said in a bored voice. Tahlia rounded on him. "Easy now. Down, girl," Kane said easily as he grabbed her wrists and held her at a distance. "He's doing this for you, you know."

"Frankly, I don't care."

"The name is Kane actually," Kane reminded her gently, "Not Frankly. Although, that would be a cool name, wouldn't it?"

"Cool it, we don't have time for bickering," Chuck stepped in between them. Sometimes they could all be immature, but they were all just children. Still, there was a time and a place, and this wasn't it. Not at all. Not when they only had so long to say goodbye. But this goodbye wouldn't be forever, as he was planning on coming back. "Here." Chuck clumsily stuffed the blanket into her face. "This is for you. I made it to keep you warm and so you can always remember me."

"Chuck, you're an idiot," Tahlia said, but with less venom this time. She grabbed the blanket and held it close. "But I had a feeling that you would volunteer, so I made this as your token." Tahlia reached down her shirt, Chuck turned away, but Kane stared intently at her. Tahlia muttered something under her breath at Kane as she pulled out a small hourglass that was sitting on a chain around her neck. "This is for you. I filled it with sand, and it's going to run as long as I'm still alive. Just know that as long as the sand is still trickling through, that I am still alive and rooting for you."

"I won't let her die before you get home," Kane put in.

"You better not." Chuck told him. He turned back to Tahlia, "I wouldn't be doing this if you weren't sick. But we need the money to get you the medicine you need, without the medicine you will die. And I can't just stand around doing nothing. This is my chance to keep you alive, and I'm going to take it."

"You're the best friend that anyone could ask for," Tahlia said, her eyes welling up with tears, "and I'm so glad I have you."

They said a final goodbye and then Chuck was leaving them. Hopefully it wouldn't be for good.

* * *

><p>And that's the end of district 8. I might be crazy for taking on Hannah, but I like her. Writing Sarah in the arena is going to be a blast!<p>

Reviews make my world a happier place!

~*Misty*~


	9. Arien and Acacia

**Arien Sledge, District 9**

Silver words flowed onto the paper in front of him. "The root of x…" Arien's mutterings faded away as he concentrated and tried to solve the problem. With his stomach on the ground and his math book in front of him, he was in his element. His tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he feverishly went about erasing a mistake.

"Math problems again?" Analisa said sweetly as sat down Indian style in front of her brother. He barely acknowledged her as he sketched a number on the paper. Analisa rolled her eyes. "What's so fun about math problems anyway?"

"They broaden your mind," Arien replied. The gears in his mind were quickly spinning; he was close to the answer. "Math has rules, and there are so many different equations, so I never have to solve the same one twice. I can depend on math. It helps me stay young."

"You're weird," Analisa said as she shook her head and got up, dusting off her bum as she strutted her nine year old self back into the house.

"Plus, it keeps my mind off of other things," Arien muttered to himself as he wrote down a number and circled it. The answer. "Like the fact that the reapings are today, and not even math problems can keep me safe."

Analisa didn't have to worry her pretty little head off about being reaped. She wasn't old enough yet. But Arien was. He had been the proper age for three reapings already. This would be his fourth. And the first three years, he had worried for no reason.

The crickets were chirping in the background, bringing a smile to his face. There was definitely something comforting about tones of nature. Singing birds and croaking frogs never had to worry about being reaped. Then again, birds and frogs lived even less years then a child reaped at twelve.

Fifteen years. That was how long he had been alive. And so far, he was enjoying it. As much fun as it would be to be a frog, a frog couldn't do math problems and hug his sister. And (this was the big one) frogs had to swim in water.

So Arien would never be able to be a frog because of that. Well, he had good reason to hate water. One didn't pull his best friend out of the water to find him dead and walk away perfectly okay. No, he had been very affected by the death of Doran.

Arien turned the page and found a new problem to solve. The answer was prettily circled within five minutes. He was getting better. He checked the clock and sighed. Time to get going. With a quick motion, he slammed the book shut and went inside to get dressed.

He didn't have much in the way of clothes, but he shrugged on black pants and a white shirt. He met his family downstairs and they shared a wordless walk to the town center. It was plain to see that they were worried. Frightened for Arien. They would all breathe easier when the day was over. Hopefully. If there was some higher power, then Arien hoped it was listening. Arien really didn't want to get reaped.

But it didn't matter what Arien wanted because life just didn't work that way. Of course, he was still trying to figure out _how_ life worked. It wasn't as simple as a math problem although he wished that it was. Arien really wanted to know the key to life. His brain thrived when trying to figure things out. Arien wanted to learn, wanted to know the answers to everything from the way a microwave worked to why people were put on Panem.

He was trying to figure out how many tons of concrete it took to build the square when the mayor finished up with the speech and the escort took his place to pull names. The girl's first. It was a small girl, a shivering child from the twelves. The crowd groaned in protest as Charisma Borderly with dark brown hair and scared brown eyes took refuge on the stage. Although, refuge was probably a bad word for it. But if she didn't get up to the stage, the Peacekeepers wouldn't have been kindly towards her.

As the escort went to reach his hand into the bowl with thousands of slips with the boy's names, Arien was thinking about pi. Not the kind of pie he could eat, but the kind that went on forever. He could name at least thirty places after the decimal. So maybe he was a tad weird. But it didn't bother him.

"Arien Sledge."

That bothered him though. Seven, that was the next number. Followed by nine. He always thought about pi when he was upset. And now was definitely one of those times. Pi was predicable. There was order to pi, the numbers were always in the same order, no surprises. Not like now.

Arien found himself standing next to Charisma. The girl was still shivering. Obviously her name was not a good clue as to her personality because charismatic people usually didn't tremble like an earthquake. There were no volunteers for either of them. Why would there have been? That would have been unpredictable. The odds of someone volunteering in District nine were so low that they were almost negative. Just like the odds of Doran walking in to say goodbye.

Because that was never going to happen. Doran was dead. Arien knew that for a fact.

His parents and Analisa were the first to come in and say goodbye which comforted Arien. He could always depend on them. His mother's arms wrapped around him and held him tight.

"You've been a good mom," Arien said, trying to keep the tears inside. No one would blame him if he didn't though. It was perfectly acceptable to cry during the goodbyes. "And I'm going to miss you."

"But you're coming back," Analisa said in her small wavering voice. "You have to come back."

"Face the facts Ana, twenty three others have family telling them to come back too. And only one will. Odds aren't on my side."

"Stop with the math," Analisa glared at her brother, "math isn't going to help you in the arena. Stop calculating your odds, and figure out a way to come home." She gave a small stomp of her feet that brought a slight grin to Arien's face. She was cute when she was angry. Not that he would ever say that to her, it would just make it worse. One should never say _cute_ to an angry girl. Never.

"No matter what happens, you'll always be our son, and we'll always be proud of you."

But would they be proud of him if he killed an innocent child? And did Arien even have a choice?

**Acacia Flylone, District 11**

Olive trees littered the land, dropping seeds among the property line where a small cottage sat on the edge of town. It was the perfect cover for a small little girl. But Acacia could always find the girl. "Peony, oh Peony, where are you? I can't find you anywhere?"

Acacia heard giggling come from one of the olive trees. Peony was hiding. Acacia played along though, pretending that she wasn't sure where her sister was. "Oh Peony!" It always made Acacia feel better when she saw Peony laughing and having a good time. It didn't happen that often. Peony's childhood wasn't a very happy one. For that matter, Acacia's hadn't been that great either. She spent her life making sure that Peony was healthy. In District Eleven, it was a difficult feat. In fact, Acacia had failed with Melantha. Melantha had died at five years old. It had been a sad day, but at the same time, Acacia was glad, because then Melantha didn't have to witness the horrible world, didn't have to worry about being chosen like Peony and Acacia did. Melantha was in a better place.

Acacia found her favorite olive tree and swung herself up to the branch. Climbing tees was second nature to her. And now she could see the land where she grew up, and there was Peony, hiding behind a tree and pretending to choke on an olive.

Acacia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Peony wasn't pretending, she actually _was_ choking. Acacia let out a screech as she swung herself off the branch and ran to her sister's rescue.

"You shouldn't be so suicidal for a nine year old,"Acacia scolded her sister as she preformed the Heimlich maneuver for probably the thirtieth time in her life. Peony made a face as she went back to playing with the olives. How Peony had made it to nine years old was beyond Acacia. But keeping Peony alive was keeping Acacia alive, and in turn, their father.

"Let's go home," Acacia sighed, holding out a hand for Peony. "Da is waiting for us."

He was. Sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and starring at a black and white photograph. Acacia was only eight when her mother had died soon after giving birth to Peony and Melantha.

"I found some olives that are semi-edible," Acacia said, holding out her hand of the seeds she had scavenged for. Peony made a face. She didn't like actually eating them. She just used them to choke on. Acacia had grown to tolerate the bitter things. It was really the only thing she ever got to eat. There were so many olive trees around that they weren't well maintained. And anyway, it was her job to preservethe trees. The Peacekeepers cared more about the other trees then the olives. No one particularly cared for that stuff. But if she dared to touch an apple then she would be whipped for her troubles. So she stuck with the olives. Stealing apples was way too last century anyway. And it was better then wheat, which was where she used to work. Bending over in the wheat fields had been killer on her back. She was glad to be in the Olive groves.

After having a not so nutritious breakfast of salt and sour, the small family of three headed to the square to see what evils were awaiting them.

Not even Acacia was ready for her fate. She found herself squeezed like the fruit trees in the orchard as Vanessa talked her ear off. That was so like Vanessa. Sometimes Acacia wondered why she was friends with the girl.

The Mayor went on talking about the dark days. He liked to talk a lot. Acacia shifted her wait to her left foot. She was getting tired standing there, and was ready for it to be over so she could sit down. Standing in the heat with a bazillion other people was not fun in the least.

Finally, finally the Mayor shut his lips and stepped aside so Marion, the escort, could fish out two names to be sentenced to death. Marion had been the escort for as long as Acacia could remember. And every year, Marion just got worse and worse.

"Now where was I?" Her voice was nasally, like she had a constant cold. She glared out at District 11, as if expecting an answer, and looked disappointed when none came. "Well, I think it's time to pick some names then."

Unfortunately for two unlucky children, it was time. Marion reached deep into the boy's bowl to find the perfect name. She plucked out two, tilted her head and replaced one back into the bowl. Although he didn't know it, a young boy by the last name of Hemlock had just been saved. His name had been briefly picked up but had been given a second chance. Of course, twenty some years later, his daughter wouldn't be so lucky.

The name that was read was Leaf Racore. A very skinny boy with bad teeth, sad eyes and a grumbling stomach.

Acacia looked at him with pity. She always hated this part, watching the newly selected children walking up to the stage like the scared child they were. It always made her stomach tie up in knots and knots in stomachs were very painful. She would know, as it happened quite often.

Then Marion's left hand reached into the bowl on the left. Acacia had never been a fan of left. She favored her right hand, and whenever she had to choose at an intersection, she _always_ went right.

"Acacia Flylone!"

Yup, Acacia hated left. Maybe it was a mistake. Maybe she had misheard and Marion had said _Alolia Flyleaf _or _Arisa Fleat._

But when Acacia felt someone pushing her, damn Vanessa, Acacia knew that it had been her name. And her name alone. Because she was the only Acacia Flylone in the District. Which totally sucked.

Acacia was ushered to the Justice building. She had never been there before, not even on school fieldtrips, she had always been out sick on those days.

Peony came in, tears streaming down her face. Acacia hurried over and gathered her sister up into a hug.

"Shh," Acacia told her darling sister "It's okay. People come back from the Games."

Peony stopped crying long enough just to glare at her sister. "I love you Acacia, but that ain't gonna happen. No one from eleven ever wins."

"Never say never, besides, there's always an exception." But Acacia's mind was going at a thousand miles per second. Even if she did win and come home, Peony would still be unattended for a few weeks. And Peony attempted suicide at least once a week. Who was going to keep her alive with Acacia gone?

Not her father. That was for sure. He was still broken up over the death of his wife. He had never been able to care for his children after that. There was no one else to keep Peony alive. Vanessa was too self-centered.

Acacia looked Peony right in the eye, "listen to me Peony, I'm going to try my hardest to come home alive, but I want to come home to you alive as well. So promise me that you won't do anything rash until it's clear as to the condition I am coming home in."

Peony glared, but made the promise.

"Pinky promise?" Acacia said, knowing that Peony was sneaky, and would often cross her fingers so the promise would be nullified. Peony sighed but the two girls locked fingers. Peony left the room, only to be replaced.

"Daddy!" Acacia said as she threw her arms around his skinny body. His bones were brittle and he grunted as she barely touched him.

Being in Eleven meant that they didn't get much to eat and most members went to bed with their stomachs yelling at them. The Flylone family especially.

"You really need to eat, Da," Acacia whispered in his ear. "You're going to wither away to nothing."

"That's the point doll," he coughed. Acacia tried to comfort him, but the Peacekeepers pulled him away.

Vanessa came in next, her mouth had begun moving before even entering the room. "This sucks, Acacia. Who am I going to talk to now? "

Acacia tuned out her friend as she tried to strategically play her survival. She had survived tough things before, so this was just one piece of the puzzle. One more challenge in her life.

And she always completed puzzles. Except for the one that was missing a corner piece.


	10. Roan and Cat

**Roan Kingsbury, District 10**

Black scavenger birds cawed above District 10, looking for food to fill their empty bellies. Sometimes it seemed like the birds got more to eat then the actual people. The Capitol didn't care though. As long as _they _got enough to eat, then they were oblivious to the suffering of the Districts.

The caw of the birds distracted Roan from his current action. He watched them circle above his head as he flicked his cigarette and the flames fell onto the dry grass by his feet. In fact, he was lucky that no flames began to rage. Or rather, the district was _unlucky_ that bad boy Roan didn't go up in flames. Life would be so much easier without mothers having to worry about the safety of their daughter**s**.

One mother in particular was pacing the floor of her small cottage wondering where on Panem her daughter Vixen was. If Mrs. McClure had known that Vixen was at this very moment, on her back with her legs spread wide open, then Mrs. McClure would be checking her daughter into a nunnery. The rest of the District was shocked that Vixen hadn't been knocked up yet 'cause it was well-known that she was a whore. In fact, they were even more surprised that that Roan hadn't implanted any girls with his spawn. Or maybe he had. But no one had come forward to claim so.

Roan was the resident bad boy, and as the birds flew away to go after their prey, Roan went back to his. Vixen smiled slyly at him as he bent down over her body and grinned. Life couldn't get any better then this. Vixen shuffled her body underneath his and let out a moan. Yes, life was perfect.

After he had satisfied his hunger, he rolled off Vixen and left her alone in the woods. He ignored her petty shouting and name calling and wondered into town. It was busy, after all. It was Reaping day. The residents were preparing themselves for the worst, and there were no pleasantries exchanged today. Not that Roan ever exchanged pleasantries in the first place. Well he did, it was just of a different sort. Strutting through town like he owned the place, he only stopped when a girl caught his eyes.

Robin was standing at the corner of the candle shop, chatting with her girlfriends. He had cut a notch in his bedpost for her last year. She caught him staring and glared. Oh, was she hot when she was angry. Then there was Fawn over by the soap store. She gave him a wave. At least she never held grudges like the other girls. Fawn was his favorite because she could let things go and she realized that Roan wasn't one for settling down. Not like that darn Cat. Speaking of Cat, he could hear her loud obnoxious voice coming down the street. He scuttled into the alley way to get far from her and her craziness. She may be hot with her head of out of control curls, but she was insane. And he had learned that the hard way. Usually he had fun messing with her head and watching her nose flare up in anger, but he hadn't had a drink in a few hours now, and was craving a beer.

After he was sure that Cat was gone, Roan went back to strutting his self down the street with his head held high. He made eye contact with the decent looking girls, causing several of them to dissolve into fits of giggles. He shook his head so his brown curls would fall into his eyes. For some unknown reason, the girls loved that. Before he knew it, he had a girl hooked to either side of him. Fawn and Raven.

"Well hey there, hot stuff," Roan said, flirting with Raven. Raven giggled and gripped his arm muscles tighter. He groaned. Raven knew just where and how to touch him to get a reaction. "How is my darling _mommy _today?"

"Step-mommy," Raven was quick to correct him.

"Yes, my darling step-mommy."

Raven purred as she rubbed his arm. He could hear Fawn making gagging noises next to him. They passed another group of sighing girls. He grinned at them, and one of the girls broke away from the group and made her way over.

"ROAN!" The small fifteen year old girl exclaimed as she ran over to him and threw her arms around his neck, practically strangling hm.

"Hey Bunny," Roan said, her name sounded like silk coming from his deep voice.

"How you keep all their names straight is beyond me," Fawn muttered for just his benefit.

"I just throw out a random animal name and hope it's correct," Roan whispered back. Fawn snorted. In fact, Roan had only slept with one girl who's name _wasn_'t an animal.

"I missed you!" Bunny said, making room for herself in Roan's arms. Raven glared as the girl pushed her away.

"My dad is probably looking for you anyway," Roan told his step-mother in a nonchalant way. Raven shrugged, leaning forward to plant a kiss on his lips before walking away. The glare on Bunny's face was plain to see. He ignored her. Naive girls were his specialty. It was how he had gotten Cat, and Robin and Cricket and all those other girls that were just notches on his bed post now.

Fawn and Bunny separated from him as they signed in at the square and went to their areas. Roan found Drake over with the other eighteen year old's. Drake had his eyes lowered at him.

"What?" Roan asked innocently. Drake shook his head in disgust but didn't say anything. There was no need, Roan knew exactly what had Drake in a tizzy. Bunny. And not the cute, snuggly animal either. But the sister to Drake.

"Stay away from my sister," Drake hissed under his breath. Roan's chance to remark back was taken away by the entrance of the Mayor as he stepped forward onto the podium to say the required boring speech. Roan loved reaping days because it brought all the girls to one place. So while the Mayor spoke, Roan let his eyes wander. Vixen's underpants were missing, and if the breeze blew he could see his favorite part of her body. Cat's boobs were pushed up tight in her bra. Robin's hair was waving in the wind, practically asking Roan to run his fingers through it. Cricket was biting her lip in a very suggestive way.

Before he knew it, the Mayor was stepping aside so the Escort could choose two names. Her hand poised over the girl's bowl first, and Roan prayed that it wouldn't be one of the hotter girls. Last year it had been Squirrel Corn, one of the hottest girls he had ever laid eyes on. He had been very disappointed when she died, especially since she had never been a notch on his bed post.

"Chameleon Bangladesh."

Roan looked over to where Cat was standing, frozen like a cat caught with its paw in the fish bowl. Ha. Now this was going to be very interesting. He knew Cat would not be able to handle this. Not with her twin sister being chosen. But wait…Roan peered closer. Whoa!

"And representing the boy's, we have Roan Kingsbury."

Aw, shit. He definitely needed a beer now. The Bangladesh twin up on the stage had a face of complete horror matched with wide eyes. Roan could only chuckle. This was going to be fun. He strode up to stage and loped an arm around her shoulders, causing her to shriek and slink away from him.

"I'd offer you some soap, but I don't have any," Roan whispered, andshe shivered.

"Not even the strongest bar of soap would get your stink off of me," she replied, tossing her head.

"Are there any volunteers for Chameleon or Roan?"

All Roan heard was crickets. And not the pretty girl, but the actual animal. Cricket did have tears running down her cheeks though. She was probably just so upset that she was losing Roan. He didn't blame her.

"Well then, I present to you, your tributes of District 10, Chameleon and Roan."

Mothers everywhere were cheering, knowing that now their daughters were safe from Roan's roaming fingers and fast tongue. Or was it fast fingers and roaming tongue?

His step mother and father were the first to come say goodbye. Raven looked between her step-son and her husband.

"I taught you well son, I know you have what it takes," coming from Aries, it was the best compliment that Roan could ever hope for. Aries shook his son's hand and then left without another word. He was probably off to go hit the bottle. Roan was left with Raven.

"You have to win," she told Roan. Roan nodded, _oh, he was planning on it._ But he knew _exactly _why Raven wanted him to. That filthy little gold digger. It really was the only reason as to why she had married his father. "When you win, I'll leave him for you, I promise." Raven kissed him passionately on the lips, even nibbling his bottom lip just the way he liked it, before sweeping out of the room. Roan wondered how many girls he could get to kiss him today. He was hoping Vixen would come say goodbye, she really did have dangerously good kissing techniques.

Sure enough, Vixen was the next one in. She battered her eye lashes at him and he engulfed her into a passionate embrace. She giggled as he placed his lips on her neck. After Vixen came Cricket. He went to go kiss her but her open palm came out of nowhere, causing his right cheek to sting.

"I don't think I deserved that one," Roan complained behind her retreating back. Robin was the next one in, this time he saw it coming, but he didn't duck in time and his left cheek turned red and it probably had a nice hand print on it. Robin had always been a very good slapper. "I might have deserved that one," Roan said as Robin left without another word. He wasn't all that surprised when Bunny hopped in next. She was the one with a super back hand, so he managed to add two more hand prints to his face. "Now that one I definitely deserved."

Bunny nodded with a glare. "I know." She stalked out of the room, her hair left a scent of strawberries lingering by his nose. He would definitely miss her perfume.

His goodbyes were over with. And Roan met up with a very angry Bangladesh twin as they were led to the train that would take them to the Capitol to meet their destiny. She was making a point to ignore him. Girls really were adorable when they were pissed off. He had the strongest urge to kiss her tiny little scowl off her face. But he was still smarting from the previous slaps. And he wasn't drunk enough to deal with another. He really needed a drink, and a cigarette, and a girl. He shuffled his gaze back to her. She was pretty, in her own insane way.

"I bet you miss my lips," he said suavely, moving over to her. The train ride would be over before he knew it, and her tight squeeze would help him pass time.

**Cataria Bangladesh**

Neutral. It was a great color, went with anything. White and black and brown. Simple and plain colors. Her walls were painted in a clean, crisp white paint. It had taken exactly 10 coats to get the walls sparkling clean and perfect. Well, nine would have done it, but Cat hated odd numbers, so she had painted one more coat to get the perfect even number of ten. It was such a great number. 10, 100. She loved zeros.

Perfect. There was such thing. Cat could tell you that much. Because _everything _had to be perfect. Had to be in order, neat and precise. Stroke after stroke, her brush easily combed through her unsnarled hair. But she was only on number seventy four. Seventy five now. Seventy six. And there were still a few strands sticking up. And there was a small wave that wouldn't straighten. She hated her wavy hair, it wasn't perfect. Appearance was everything. Seventy eight, seventy nine.

A knock on the door caused her to jump, and her hair went in every which direction. Taking a deep breath like she had been taught, Cat tried to calm herself down. But her hair was a mess, and now she was going to have to start over. One, two, three.

"Cat, the reapings start soon," Cham said as she barreled into the room. Cham always went a thousand miles per second. Even now, as Cat was trying to smooth out the frizz, Cham was jumping around from corner to corner, like a fly trapped in a glass container. "Here!" Cham had rummaged through their extremely empty closet to find the pair of identical dresses that the twins always wore to reapings.

Cat made a face. She hated that dress. It was worn out and the flowers were fading. It wasn't perfect. But their parents wouldn't shell out a single cent for them to get new dresses and Cat didn't have any extra cash lying about to waste on a new wardrobe, not when the sisters were saving to move out and get their own place far from their awful parents. In all actuality, they were great parents, to Capon. But Cat and Cham and their youngest sister Mink, were not Capon. No, Capon was the youngest, the perfect little boy that the selfish Bangladesh's had always wanted. It had just them four tries to get the boy. Resulting in their three older children, all girls, to be sorely neglected. And neglect never went over well with innocent children. Just ask Cat and Cham, they could tell you.

"Capon! Breakfast!" Mrs. Bangladesh shouted. The two girls rolled their eyes. Breakfast was never made for them. Nope, just for Capon. Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Capon was well taken care off.

Cham was staring at herself in the mirror, all skin and bones because they hardly got enough to eat. Mink arrived, brandishing a pile of dirty apples. Cat made a face and refused to grab one from Mink's disgustingly dirty hands. Cham grabbed it and sunk her teeth deep into the skin of the bruised red apple. Cat felt sick just watching her sister eat the fruit. Her stomach chose that moment to growl. A very unattractive noise.

Cham chattered nonstop, her fingers drummed against the desk, as Cat finished brushing her hair. Finally everystrand was in place. She took a closer look at herself in the mirror. And screeched. There was a small speck of dirt on her cheek.

"Get it off!" She shouted, running over to the sink. She grabbed the small toothbrush that she had specifically for dirt and began scrubbing at it. It turned her cheek raw and red, but the dirt disappeared. There was only one type of make up that she would dare wear. The only kind that wouldn't make her feel dirty. It was expensive and hard to get, but so worth it. She dabbed a little bit on her cheek. Smoothing it out on her spotless skin, it was imperative that she made sure it blended in. She had seen other girls about the district *cough-Cricket-cough* and their orangish skin, a result of horrible make-up brands.

"We should probably get going," Cham said, bouncing out of the room like a balloon on steroids. Cat took one last look at her appearance in the mirror, her hazel eyes and double chin stared back at her. Perfect. She followed Mink out the door and the three sisters headed downstairs. The rest of the Bangladesh's, their parents and brother, were oblivious to the arrival of the three girls. Without bothering to talk to their parents, the sisters left the house. Cham skipped down the lane, while Cat made sure to avoid the huge puddles that littered the ground.

While they walked, Cat's mind began turning and she found herself randomly touching the posts in town, then cringing away as she realized she was touching something that was unclean. Cham and Mink were used to her behavior by now, and Mink kept offering her baby whips that Cat took without question.

"I think I left my hair straightner on," Cat said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the road and causing Mink to run into her.

"You didn't Cat, it's fine," Cham was quick to assure her. But Cat had that feeling in the back of her mind that something was wrong, and she refused to budge another step until they went back to check. So the girls begrudgingly –well, two of them- turned around to go relax Cat's well being. By the time they reached their house, their parents and brother had already left. It was probably for the best. Cat ran to her hair straightener and saw that it was turned off. With a sigh of relief she headed to the sink and started washing her hands again, scrubbing it clean of even the invisible dirt.

"Cat, let's go, we don't have time for this," an impatient Cham said from the doorway. The three sisters left the house for the second time and headed down the walk.

"I think I left the light in the bathroom on," Cat said, struggling to turn around and head back to the house. But this time Cham wouldn't let her.

As they got closer to town, the crowds started getting thicker, causing Cat to tense up. She wasn't a fan of crowds. Just the slight touch from someone she didn't know would cause her to feel dirty and she would feel the need to take a shower. Cat couldn't even tell you the number of times she took a shower a day, and she _still_didn't feel clean.

"There's Roan," Cham muttered under her breath to Cat. Cat drew in a deep breath. Oh how she hated that boy. With his good looks and charming personality, he had somehow enraptured her heart. Jerk. She would never make that mistake again. She heard that he was now currently with Vixen, local slut. He ducked away into an alley way before Cat could go off her rocker and shout at him like she wanted. Oh how she held a grudge against him. She had sworn that if she ever got him alone...well, use your imagination, it wasn't anything pretty.

"I know he stole our money," Cat whispered with clenched fists. That money had been their ticket to a new life. But after Roan had gotten Cat in bed, he had taken off. And just last month, the full bag of cash had gone missing, never to be seen again. Cat knew it had been Roan to steal it. Mink place a steadying grasp on Cat's arm. Cat jerked away. She hated being touched, even by her sisters. Why she had let Roan touch her in the first place was beyond her. But because of his fingers roaming in places they shouldn't,' she had had more problems then usual.

"Leave it be," Cham whispered back. "Roan isn't worth it."

That was the truth. Cat looked back in time to see Roan embrace some girls whose names were also animal names. So many girls in the District had that type of identity. Cat herself looked just like the animal in which she shared her name. And she swore that Mink did as well. And even Cham, which was short for Chameleon, sometimes seemed like she had the ability to change her appearance and blend into walls.

Cat and Cham headed off to the sixteen year old section while Mink joined her friends in the fourteens. Cat distanced herself as much as possible so as not to get dirty. The other girls shot her dirty looks as she accidentally stepped on Robin's foot. Even though they had both been conquests of Roan, they did not get along as Robin was a bitch.

It was a boring speech like always, but before Cat knew it, the escort was reaching her hand in to fish out a name. Cat shuddered, those slips of paper must be filthy! She was glad she didn't have to touch them.

"Chameleon Bangladesh."

The name sent clammy chills down Cat's spine. And she glanced at her sister in horror. NO! No, that couldn't be right. It couldn't have been her name that was chosen. By the identical look on Cham's face, Cat knew that it was true. Cham made a movement to step forward towards the stage where the chosen tributes were supposed to go. And Cat found herself grabbing her sister and pulling back. Something that surprised both of them.

"Cat!" Cham whispered, "It's okay. I'll go."

With boldness that Cat didn't feel, she pushed her twin away and made her way to the stage. Cat would never let her sister sacrifice her life. The crowd parted to make room for Cat to squeeze her way through. Her dress rubbed up against other people and Cat shivered, but tried her best to stay calm. She wasn't going to be able to do this! The arena was dirty! She wouldn't have a brush! She couldn't go! Maybe Cham should go instead. NO! It wouldn't be right to ask Cham to go, even if it had been her name that was pulled. If Cat didn't have a chance, then Cham had even less.

Another name was pulled, a boy's name. "And representing the boy's, we have Roan Kingsbury."

Cat's eyes widened in shock. NO! That couldn't be right either! There was no way on Panem that Cat was going to suffer through the games with Roan by her side. That jerk! How dare he have his name called in the same year as hers. He rushed up to stage, seeming very eager to go with her.

"I'd offer you some soap, but I don't have any," Roan whispered, and she shivered at his mocking tone.

"Not even the strongest bar of soap would get your stink off of me," she replied, tossing her head.

"Are there any volunteers for Chameleon or Roan?" The escort called out, unaware of the silent seething that Cat was shooting at Roan. If only looks could kill, then Roan would have dropped dead five months ago. "Well then, I present to you your tributes of District 10, Chameleon and Roan."

Cat completely ignored Roan as the headed towards the Justice building so they could say goodbye to their beloved friends and family.

She looked at the couch in disdain. She could see soiled stains from previous tributes on the couch. There was no way she was going to sit down. So she stood awkwardly in the corner waiting. Cham and Mink were the only two to show up to say goodbye. Why was Cat not surprised?

"Cat, are you _CRAZY_?" Even if Cat didn't know her sister, she could still see the hurt in Cham's eyes and hear the gratitude in her voice. Cham was frightened, and that scared Cat most of all. "Cat, seriously, why'd you do it? Listen, you can still back out, we're _identical_ twins, it was MY name that was pulled. It's only right that I go."

"Cham, it's okay," Cat said softly. "I'll go."

"I know why," Mink finally spoke up from the corner. The twins looked over at her younger sister. Mink's eyes were sparkling mischievously. "Roan."

"Please tell me that isn't why?" Cham whispered in a deadpan tone. Her legs were shaking and her fingers were drumming against her hips. Cham was getting restless.

Before Cat had a chance to answer, Cham and Mink were ushered out and Cat, posing as her twin sister, was sentenced to a seat next to Roan on the train. She could tell that he knew exactly who he was sitting next to. Luckily, Roan didn't call her out on the switch-a-roo.

"I bet you miss my lips," he said suavely, moving over to her. Cat glared at him. This was going to be a very long train ride. She tried to move away from him as he grabbed at her. His fingers were dirty and she felt violated. She really needed a shower.

The crows circled overhead, Cat wished she could feed the boy sitting next to her to them. But even the crows would probably turn up their beaks at Roan. Well, at least she had permission to kill him now. Maybe Mink was right, maybe Roan _was _the reason she was going. For revenge. After all, revenge was a dish best served with a side of death.

* * *

><p>So happy that reapings are finally over with, but I felt the tributes all needed a decent pov for their reapings!<p>

So, now that we've met all the tributes which one is your favorite? Your least favorite? Who do you want to die first? Who do you want to win? The poll is up, go vote!

~*Misty*~


	11. Flaming Red Hair

And we're off to visit Flamiken! Everyone's favorite Gamemaker. Now, she's a tad different in this story just because she hasn't evolved to be against the Capitol yet. Right now she still believes that what she is doing is right.

* * *

><p>It would have been a beautiful morning if it wasn't for the screaming coming down the hall, and the fact that her alarm hadn't gone off on time and she was going to be late. But neither of those were things she could fix. Well actually, she could change the fact that a baby lived in her house. All she had to do was kick her tenant out. But she couldn't exactly kick Carley and her baby out since Carley was some sort of relation to Flamiken, like a cousin or something to that effect. It wasn't like she needed the money, not with her new job of Head Gamemaker, the dough would be rolling in soon. Soon enough, Flamiken would be living in the Penthouse of one of the most expensive towers in the city. It had been her dream ever since she was a child, and now she was finally getting closer to having that dream realized.<p>

Flamiken went over to the mirror and brushed her long locks of flaming red hair. Some people had no idea where they had gotten their names from, but she did. She knew exactly why she had been named Flamiken. And one day, her name would make a statement. She would burn on long after she was gone. She would make sure of that.

Twisting up her hair in a powerful high bun, Flamiken grinned at herself in the mirror. With a slight dab of red lipstick and a quick touch of blush, and she was good to go.

"Good morning Flamiken," her cousin, or something to that effect, said. The baby was sitting in its highchair playing with cheerios. She wasn't sure if it was a boy or girl. "Say hi, Pai," Carley said to the baby. It just cooed. It even had a unisex name that could go either way.

Stupid parents couldn't give their child a name with a meaning nowadays. The twenty four children who had been picked this year had quite a variety of names. There was that girl with her name shortened to a boy's name. Then there were the District 3 kids who both had names that could go either way. Flamiken wasn't actually sure which one was the boy and which was the girl. Not that she really cared. There were more important things to worry about. Least of all were the twenty four children and what their names were. She'd learn those soon enough though. But really, each year she had to learn twenty four new names just to get rid of twenty three of them.

She wasn't exactly a _motherly_ type of person. Even watching the children on screen was way too close to comfort for her. Even though Flamiken was an older sister, she kept her distance from Tami. Tami was such a clingy little child, loved to follow her big sis _everywhere_, much to Flamiken's dismay. Actually, Flamiken was surprised that her sister wasn't a Gamemaker….yet.

"Can you get Pai's milk? Silly child dropped it again," Carley asked as she bustled around the kitchen. Flamiken glared at Carley's back. Flamiken wasn't the mother. It wasn't _her _job to do things for the kid. Flamiken had enough children to deal with already. She didn't exactly want another one on her plate.

Flamiken left the house without bothering to say goodbye. She'd see Carley and Pai soon enough anyway. It got annoying having to say _hello _and _goodbye _all the time when she knew perfectly well that she couldn't get away from them long enough where it had any meaning.

Flamiken got on the hover craft and headed to the Capitol building where she worked. From an early age, most Capitolites wished that they would one day work there. Not many of those dreams actually came true, but for Flamiken, it had. The hovercraft came to a stop and she got out, smiling to herself as she looked over the edge, the force field keeping her from falling off. The Capitol was always worried about safety. The city was bustling as the citizens hurried around trying to get to work on time, or trying to get their youngsters to school. Flamiken was so glad she didn't have to worry about making sure a child actually went through the doors and headed for class. There were many days when she herself never actually sat down at her assigned desk because she would much rather be somewhere else that didn't involve learning about the Districts and their jobs. But her school days were long over with, and now she was pretty much forced to go to work. At least she had a job that she loved.

She pulled herself away from the edge of the roof and headed into the elevator that would take her to her floor. Her high heels made a comforting clattering sound as she headed down the long hall that led to the inner room where Mrs. Vanegaurd sat at the desk. Mrs. Vanegaurd was a young thing. Well, younger than Flamiken. She was basically the secretary, and the only one with the power to open the doors to the Gamemaker Hall of Fame, as Alidia so tenderly put it.

"Good morning, Ms. Myzer. I have the tribute information sheets for you right here." Sharyl's voice was cool and crisp like always. Flamiken went over to grab the sheets. It was just a brief overview of all the tributes that had been chosen yesterday. It would be very vital in deciding how they would go about their plans for the arena. Flamiken nodded at Sharyl in thanks and headed towards the door. Flamiken had never been much of a talker and hated how Sharyl would always start gossiping up a storm. So Flamiken usually just went right on through without bothering to stop. This time she had to though, since the door wouldn't budge. "The door's broke again," Sharyl said. The amusement in her voice was plain to hear.

Flamiken bit back a bitter retort, something that was very difficult for her to do. She was tired of how that darn door was _always_ broken. The Capitol was rich, yet they couldn't bother to get a working automatic door. Poppycott.

Sharyl pushed herself up out of the chair and waddled over to Flamiken to open the door manually. Sharyl was very, very pregnant, and absolutely loved being fawned over, something that Flamiken was above. There would be no cooing coming from her. Absolutely none.

A loud and familiar noise came from the far end of the hallway and Flamiken sighed. Great, it was Wendetta, and she was not above fawning over the pregnant Sharyl.

"Good morning!" she shrilled as she ran over to Sharyl and put a hand on the belly. "My, you're getting so big!"

Flamiken tried to open the door herself, but it wouldn't budge, and the other two were ignoring her. Great. She was late for the Gamemaker meeting, and who knew how long she'd be stuck with the gossiping ladies.

"So, when are you due? And what are you going to name him? It is a boy, right?"

Sharyl smiled, "yes, our second. We were hoping for a girl this time around, but oh well, there's always number three!"

"Sharyl-" Flamiken didn't get a chance to finish her question though.

"Why, that's marvelous, simply wonderful. You and Mr. Vaneguard are wonderful parents."

"Sharyl, please, can you open the door."

"Oh, sorry, Flamiken," Sharyl waddled over and put in the code, and it swung open easily. Flamiken glared before hurrying through and running into the Gamemaker wing. Wendetta did not follow. She always took her own sweet time anyway.

"You're late," Volouth said accusingly as Flamiken opened the door to the conference room where the others –minus Wendetta- were waiting for her. A huge screen lined two of the walls. Each screen held twelve separate sections, and each section had a number from one to twelve. There were numerous rooms in which to watch the children. This was just one of the many.

"Damn door was broken again," Flamiken said in explanation, the others just rolled their eyes. "So, shall we get started?"

It was time to discuss the twenty four children and find out who they would target with what mutations and tricks. After all, it wouldn't be smart to send a snake after a child who loved to play with them, as they had found out three years ago. The boy from 7 had befriended the snake and got the snake to kill all the tributes left and ended up winning.

They turned their attention to the first section where two names were being shown: Victory Clemmings and Zephyr Cage. Cameras at all angles were trained on two children. Well, not really children, since they were both seventeen**. **They were both quiet, minding their own business. The girl was staring at a piece of paper in her lap while the boy was concentrating on the scenery outside of the train.

"They'll both be great careers," Alidia said with a smile. "I can't wait to see them in action, because that boy just seems ready to kill! And that girl, there's something about her itching to be let out."

"She's hot," Volouth said as he licked his lips, earning him a playful smack from Alidia. Flamiken rolled her eyes. Seriously, they acted worse than the tributes sometimes. "I'm so glad I picked her."

"Picked her? What do you mean?" Easha asked. Damn, did that one ever pay attention during Gamemaker sessions?

"Come on Easha, get with the program. Remember, we secretly rigged some of the reapings so children of victors would be chosen. Volouth always chooses the children whose names will be picked."

"And he always chooses the hot girls," Alidia put in.

After they were done fully discussing the District One tributes, they moved to District 2. The tributes representing that one were Tallulah Neith and Castiel De la Vega. Once again, Volouth was drooling. Weren't career girls supposed to be brutish and ugly? But so far both of them were fine looking, able to get the boys to stop and stare. Flamiken couldn't wait to see them in the arena. Neither of the girls so far looked like they'd be able to go more than a day without a shower.

"Now we're in for a real treat this time around. Castiel being the son of Roman, he's bound to give us a show," Alidia said. She had always had a thing for the evil tributes. "And that girl, Tallulah, she looks all sweet and innocent, but I bet you underneath all that glamour, she's going to be a real killer."

"Oh, I hope so."

The District Three tributes were the ones that Flamiken wasn't sure who was which gender. The names were shown _Fiver_ and _Cord. _But really the girl could have either name.

"Fiver sure likes lively," Volouth said, and Flamiken knew at once that Fiver was the name of the girl. Because there was no way Volouth would remark on the guy like that. "I can't wait to see her in action. You know what I would like….two hot girls kissing, that's what I want. Think we can swing that this year?"

"Eww…" Easha squeaked. Flamiken decided to ignore both of them. She had a feeling that she would be doing a lot of that during her time as Head Gamemaker. Not one of her strong suites.

"The boy seems weak," Alidia pointed out.

"He's probably really smart though, coming from three."

"Not as smart as District 5 and 6 tributes. Now _those_ children are usually geniuses."

Flamiken let her fellow Gamemaker's discuss Cord's brains while she took a closer look at the Four tributes.

"How about two guys kissing Volouth?" She asked as she watched Pontus and decided that he played for a different team than most guys.

"You know, I much prefer two girls actually, thanks for the choice though. Now, if you and Alidia want to kiss, then be my guest."

Alidia's silver eyes sparkled mischievously and made a sudden move towards Flamiken. Volouth licked his lips in anticipation. Flamiken rolled her eyes, oh the things she did to keep the others entertained. Wasn't this why there were the Games? Alidia closed the distance between them and looked up. Volouth was very eager. Alidia swung around towards him.

"Nah, that's alright," Alidia said smoothly as she headed back to her seat and Flamiken breathed a sigh of relief while Volouth pouted.

"You're no fun."

"What about Kendra," Easha asked, for once stopping the off-topic conversation and bringing it back on topic.

"She doesn't seem like a Career at all, so we'll have to test her skills," Volouth said, "Plus, I've seen prettier, she seems too tan and fake."

They moved on to District Five where both tributes were blown off as blood baths. District 6 consisted of _Lyrah Henley _and _Albacore Lockheart._ The tributes were both with their mentors on the train, unaware that there were cameras watching them and that their every move was being analyzed by the Gamemakers.

"She's actually interesting," Volouth said, "she's not drop dead gorgeous like the others, but just look at the way that she holds herself, she's not scared at all. I like her."

"I agree, she seems sure of herself, not overly cocky, and just the right amount of determination. I think she has a small chance," Alidia said thoughtfully. "She'll get a good amount of sponsors, especially with the fact that so many of her relatives have already died in the games. She has a small pity factor, but not too much."

"The boy seems able to hold his own as well…though who in their right mind names a boy in 6 after a fish is beyond me."

They watched the two Sixes for a few more minutes before moving on to the Sevens.

"Now Jo, she's going to be amazing," Volouth said tenderly. "I chose her for a reason. One, she has a hot mamma, and two, she's hot as well."

Jo was sitting on the train with her arms crossed while her mother was talking. Jo was one of the many children of Victor's, but the only child of a Victor in 7. One of the many reasons that she had been chosen for her name to be rigged. And her mother was going to be Jo and the boy, Linden's, mentor.

Jo didn't look happy by that fact. Which child would? Knowing that your own parent was responsible for your life or death. Jo's mother wouldn't be surrounded by friends and family, praying for the safety of her daughter. No, instead she would be in the mentor box making excruciatingly hard choices.

Flamiken was going to have to have a talk with all the people who were mentoring their own children, 'cause there were quite a few. She would have to remind them that they were not to play favorites.

"You know, we haven't had a romance blossom in the arena in quite a few years, I think it would be fun to get two of the tributes together. It's an "aw" factor." Alidia was all about the romance. Drove Flamiken insane. In the games, there was no such thing as love. Actually, most of the time she thought that there was no such thing as love period. She had yet to be proved otherwise.

"Ooh, that would be wonderful," Wendetta squeaked as she swept into the room, the door banging shut behind her. Flamiken groaned, so much for peace and quiet. "He's cute," she remarked as she saw Linden on the screen, giving his rapt attention to Roma as she went over ideas for how Jo and Linden should act while at the Captiol.

"She's a smart woman," Flamiken remarked about Roma Richemont. "She'll do whatever is in her power to get her tributes far, and this time, her daughter is a tribute."

"Has a Victor's child ever won yet?" Easha asked, pretty much because she was too dumb to actually pay attention to the winning tributes.

"Not yet," Flamiken replied, "but it might happen this year."

The Disctrict 8 tributes were _Hannah Matthews _and _Charles Aviston_.

"Hmpf, weakling," Volouth commented about the girl. "She'll be dead in no time at all. Just look at her! She's skinny, like hardly any meat on her bones. She's won't last a minute."

"Wanna bet on it?" Wendetta asked. The Gamemakers liked to bet on the tributes, in fact Flamiken was surprised it had taken them _this_ long to get a bet going. "I bet you that Hannah turns out to be the craziest one in the arena."

Volouth chuckled, it was deep and almost evil like. "You're on." The two of them shook on the bet and Alidia wrote the bet down in her little notebook.

"What's that in his hand," Flamiken said, bringing their attention to the boy, who wouldn't stop starting at a small thing in his hand that was wrapped in a chain around his neck. The others shrugged, "well, find out. I want to know what the significance is. Remember, we need to know these tributes inside and out. We want to know their fears, their strengths, everything about them so we can destroy them!"

The others cheered. Flamiken smiled. This was more like it! They were pumped up now and they always did their best work when they were excited.

"I bet you that Flamiken looses it before the day is up," Alidia whispered to Easha. Flamiken ignored them and headed over to the screen with the tributes from Nine. "I bet she's a bloodbath," Alidia said of the girl. Only Easha was stupid enough to bet on that one. A week of taking notes would go to the loser.

"Now the boy….he seems way too smart to be in Nine," Flamiken said as they watched the boy solve math problems without any struggle. "And the smart kids never win anyway, because they don't know their way around weapons or fighting."

"You never know, he might end up surprising you," Wendetta pointed out. Flamiken needed to stop giving opinions that Wendetta would voice an objection to.

"Doubtful, but we'll see," Flamiken shrugged and they headed to the next screen. District 10, with Chameleon and Roan. They were on the train, Roan was very, very close to Chameleon and she did not look comfortable in the least. The mentors and escort were ignoring the children, talking in whispers as they planned how the tributes should act. Probably didn't even realize that Roan had Chameleon in a very compromising position.

"Hey, you'll like this Volouth," Alidia said, looking up from the information sheet with Chameleon's name written on it in bold letters. "She's a twin!"

Volouth looked at Chameleon with excitement. He loved twins, he had this speculation about twins and whenever one twin was reaped, he always played with the twin to see if his speculation was correct. "And she's a hot one, too!" Volouth exclaimed, practically drooling up at the screen. "Identical twins?" He asked Alidia.

She nodded, and if it was possible, his grin got even wider. "Perfect," he said, flashing his sharp teeth. "She's mine. No one else better mess with her."

"What about District 11?" Easha said, pointing at the screen where the girl was staring at the plate of food in front of her, as if she had never seen that much in one location before. The boy was shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could. He would have a stomach ache within an hour. But the girl hadn't even touched her fork yet.

"What about it?" Alidia said, "District 11 is usually a very weak one, I doubt that they will get very far, they hardly ever do. Just like 12."

"The boy for sure," Flamiken said, looking thoughtfully at the girl, "but the girl looks like she might have a spark to get her through."

Volouth was flipping through Chameleon's information sheet still and completely ignoring their discussion of 11. "You know, it says that Chameleon has some sort of disorder…her and her twin sister both have something wrong with them…this will make things even better!" He was like a child in a candy store for the fist time.

"Well, this looks like an interesting batch," Flamiken said, turning away from the screen. "We can do some fun things with them, and give Panem a show to remember." The other Gamemakers looked on as Flamiken stood in front of the television staring at them. The screen was giving off a glow, making her red hair even more noticeable. It seemed like it was about to catch on fire at any minute. That was Flamiken, she had a flame that wouldn't go out.

* * *

><p>Do you still like Flamiken in this chapter? Can you see the same person who burnt down the 53rd arena in this woman? This is who she was before everything happened during the 52nd and 53rd games. And does anyone remember who the Vaneguards are?<p>

~*Misty*~


	12. Spoiled Brats and Brave Friends

**Victoria Clemmings, District 1**

The room was bright and huge. A chair in the middle for her to sit on, a tub in the corner for her to bathe in. Tools that she had no names for. Huge cases of makeup lined one wall behind her. It was where she would spend most of her time in the Capitol, just getting ready for the next step. Right now, it was to prepare her for the games.

Her prep team consisted of three highly trained women who babbled about and made her presentable enough for her stylist. She had heard both good and bad things about him, and was hoping that only the good things were true.

At the moment her stylist, Luc, was pacing the room in frustration as Tory stared at him, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He was a true Capitolite in every way. The tall, proud stance, the colorful punk hairdo and eyes that never stayed still. Being from One, Tory was used to that kind of look, but it still made her feel uneasy. He wasn't like her. She wasn't like him.

"I think the floor hates you," Tory finally pointed out, annoyed that he had been in the room with her for that long and had not even bothered saying hello. What an ignorant bastard he was. Tory was used to being the center of attention, used to being fawned over. The prep team was good at that. They kept gushing about how gorgeous she was. But Luc had barely grunted.

Luc sneered at her and Tory knew that they were going to have some issues. No one sneered at her and lived to tell the tale.

"They never give me anything decent to work with," Luc complained, throwing his hands up in the air in disgust. "Francios always gets the decent looking girls, and he's in Two! I deserve the pretty ones!"

Tory lowered her eyes at him. She wasn't exactly vain, not like some other girls she knew. But when she looked in the mirror and saw the image looking back at her, she knew that she had it going on.

"Hmpf. If I don't do something remarkable then they're going to move me to a lower district and that wouldn't be good for my image. But it's not my fault that I have nothing to work with."

"A good stylist never blames his tools," one of the prep ladies said as she plucked a stray eyebrow from Tory's face.

"Yeah, they might put you in Seven. Now that would put you in your place. I hear that they are bold and always say what is on their minds. You wouldn't like that, as you hate hearing others opinions," another of the ladies said. Tory was glad she had a prep team with a backbone.

The third snorted, a bugger flew from her nose and hit Tory. Tory shrieked and Luc laughed. "That's what you get."

"Well there's really not much one can do with Seven, since all they have are trees. Lots and lots of trees," the second lady said quietly as she tore a comb through Tory's hair. Tory winced. Damn, that hurt!

"Yes," Tory agreed, "you can always make a paper dress, now that would be a sure hit! You can bring the paper dress in style!"

"Paper dresses will never be in style."

"You never know," Tory smiled politely as her head was yanked back. "Ouch! Watch it! I need my head intact, thank you very much."

"Oh quit your whining," Luc snapped at her.

"Geeze, grouchy much?" Tory mumbled under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear every syllable.

"I _hate_ spoiled, ungrateful brats from One," Luc grumbled as he finally pushed the prep team aside. He got to work on getting Tory read for her big entrance on the chariot rides that would be commencing in jut a few hours. Luc was actually good at his job. Tory had to give him a little bit of credit. But only a little, and she would never admit it out loud. She watched from the corner of her eye as he cut and trimmed fabric and draped her in glittering colors.

"I'm NOT spoiled," she objected in a high pitched tone. Her voice got loud and high like that when she was peeved.

Luc scoffed at her. "Daughter of a Victor, right?"

Tory nodded. "Yes, and what does _that_ have to do with anything?"

"You're rich?" He asked, ignoring her little outburst.

She nodded again, "but isn't everyone else from One?" She pointed out. "I'm not the only daughter of a victor, you know. There's Spirit and Glory, and both of them are rich."

"They aren't here now, are they? Luc sneered at her, "You are, and you are a spoiled brat." He snipped a piece of fabric and wrapped it around her neck to look like a scarf. Tory gagged and reached up, but he loosened it before she could choke to death. "Well, miss spoiled rich girl, that's exactly the look we're going to present."

"Nobody'll buy it," Tory crossed her arms in front of her chest. Classic Tory.

Luc's eyes twinkled. "Oh, they will child. I'm talented."

"And very modest too, I see," Tory rolled her eyes, fiddling with the scarf and thinking of her life back home. She always had food a'plenty and pretty clothes to wear. Most that had never even seen the outside of her very extensive closet. She actually had a handheld device that showed her the contents of her closet and exactly where each item was. She would miss that. But hey, now she had Luc to dress her. Even better! She snuck a glance at herself in the mirror and grinned. The makeup was perfectly blending in to her skin tone, hiding that gigantic pimple by her eyebrow that had emerged just that morning much to her dismay. It had taken all of her self control _not_ to pop it.

Tory broke out like most teenage girls did, but it wasn't super bad like Spirit. That girl would have scars the rest of her life. Tory especially broke out when she was stressed. And with the games right around the corner, she was just a _tad_ stressed. Nothing she couldn't handle though. As a One, her odds were pretty great for winning. And as a child of two victors, her odds were even better. She had seen the recap of the reapings and had been impressed by most of the other careers. The guys for sure. The other two girls, not that much. The girl from Four especially, she looked weak and incapable. Tory had no competition coming from the girls. And for a little while at least, the boys would be of great help to her. Then there were the tributes in the lower Districts, they didn't even have a slither of a chance.

"Alright, my little diva. It's time for you to see my masterpiece," Luc said, jolting Tory out of her little moment of contemplation. He motioned to the prep team to bring over the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror. He ignored them as they struggled, not bothering to even lift a pinky to help them move it. He did offer an arm to Tory though. She leaned on him as he helped her from the rigid stance in which she had been sitting in for hours on end while they had made her presentable.

Tory gasped in delight as she saw her full outfit and twirled. The extremely short skirt was ruffled and easily fluffed around her as she spun. It practically sparkled at her. With the short skirt, revealing blouse, and hair that had been gently teased into curls, she did look like those spoiled brats from the District that she absolutely hated. A tiara was added to her head and it totally made the outfit. Luc had done his job.

"Much better then a paper dress," Tory grinned at him. Much better.

**Charles Aviston, District 8**

A little over five years ago, life was perfect for Chuck. He had a home with loving parents and two annoying sisters. One was older, one was younger. He was the middle child, smack dab between two girls. But it was familiar to him and he liked it. Sure…every now and then he wanted to smack Chelsea on the side of her head and tell her to shut up, that he didn't care who her current crush was. And yes, most of the times Bella sang too loudly in the shower. But they were still his sisters and he still adored the hell out of him. He looked up to Chelsea and Bella looked up at him. He had friends that would complain that being the middle child sucked. But he didn't think so.

His parents were always around, his mother would make breakfast in the morning and pack his lunch for school. His father would go to work before Chuck was even awake. But at night the family of five would sit down for a hot meal.

One day, Chuck was late getting home. He had stayed late at school to finish his school work. Afterwards, he had constantly questioned himself on why he had stayed late at school. Maybe self-consciously he knew that something would happen, and he would die if he went home.

As he walked down the familiar path that brought him into the loving arms of his parents, he started to feel that something was wrong. And when he looked up at the sky to see it pitch black and surrounded in clouds of gray, he knew in his gut that something bad was happening. He ran as fast as he could to his house, but it was too late. Brilliant yellow flames were licking his house hungrily. He thought he could faintly hear the screams coming from inside. Inhuman sounds that he would never be able to get out of his head. Screams that would forever haunt his dreams.

The fire did not get put out in time to save his family. His loving mother and hardworking father, his obnoxious sister Chelsea and sweet sister Bella. All four of them…dead. Never to be seen again. And Chuck went from having a family, to having nothing at all. All in the space of an hour. He didn't find it funny how life could change in an instant.

And now here he was. Standing in a room, his life changing once again. And this time, he wouldn't be able to make the most of it. Thalia and Kane weren't around to get him out of this pickle. Nope, it was just him. All by his lonesome. One was such a lonely number.

"He's so puny looking," one of the ladies on his prep team stage whispered.

"It's because he's from eight. Remember last year's tribute? Weakest thing I have ever seen," another replied.

"Well, at least this one has _some_ muscle," the third joined in.

"Yes, let's make fun of the naked kid," Chuck said bitingly.

"Now, now, there's no need to be rude." The door opened and a fourth person walked in, causing the three on the prep team to turn into bumbling idiots.

"Oh, Carissa, we're _so_ sorry, but he's not done yet."

"It was _her _fault," the one with curly hair said. "She took forever washing his hair!"

"He looks fine Marietta, why don't you go tell on someone else. Now, shoo!" Carissa told the woman with curly hair. Marietta blushed but rushed out the door without another word. "Don't mind Marietta, dear, she's rude and obnoxious. It's best to just ignore her."

Chuck gave a single nod and looked down at the hourglass that was still lying around his neck. Was it just him, or did it seem like the sand was flowing through the hole faster than it had been yesterday. He needed to get this over with. He needed to get into the arena, win and then go home and save Thalia. He had failed at keeping his two sisters alive, he refused to let his best friend die as well.

"We'll have you looking like a handsome fellow in no time at all," Carissa cooed as she grabbed some fabric.

"What's the theme this year?" Chuck asked, knowing that it was probably nothing good. District 8 was full of factories, nothing fun about stitching clothes.

"Don't worry your handsome head about that," Carissa cooed again. She reminded him of an oversized pigeon or something. "Rats with wings" was what they called those birds in 8. They were always up in the rafters of the buildings. "Here, hold this." She thrust the fabric at him, and he glanced down at the stitching. It was a slip stitch that looked an awful lot like Thalia's work, to be quite honest. That girl was really great at complicated stitching. Looking at it made him long for her. He was missing his friends greatly.

"Let's put on some music, shall we?"

The station was turned on, and soon, an awful beat filled the air. It was a cross between a dying cow and a sick pigeon. It was terrible. That wasn't what he would call music! While they got to work on his costume, Chuck thought about Thalia and Kane and wondered what they were doing right this second. Probably worrying their heads off about him. Well, there would be plenty of time for that once he hit the arena.

He needed a plan. He didn't come all this way to save Thalia just to die in the bloodbath. When training started tomorrow he would look for an ally. It was important that he find one that he could trust…at least, a little bit. But trust was hard to find in these games. "Allies" was just a kinder way of saying 'I'll stab you in the back in a few days.'

"Done!" Carissa finally said after what seemed like hours. "Let's get you over to the chariot now."

Chuck gulped, causing him to choke.

"Hey now, no dying yet!" Marietta said as she swept back in the room.

"I'm not planning on dying 'til I'm old and gray," Chuck replied. Marietta bit her lower lip. trying to keep back her laughter.

"Now Marietta, stop that. We're supposed to be a support system for him," Carissa said as she almost lovingly patted Chuck on the head, like a master would for his pet dog.

Chuck managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he was ushered out of the room and down the hall. He pretty much looked like a glorified version of his normal self. Same brown hair, same gray eyes. But the outfit he was wearing looked better than the clothes he normally wore. The cloth was brighter, the stitches were closer together. It made him seem older then the seventeen years that he really was.

They caught up with Hannah in the hall. She looked smaller today. Her eyes were clouded over and scared looking. Her movements were cautious. She definitely did not seem like the same girl that he had shared the train with on the way over.

"You okay?" He asked her. The big brother mode in him took over. Even though she was only two years younger than he was, right now she seemed much younger.

Her scared eyes widened and her lips quivered. Like a scared doe lost and unable to find her mother.

"I'll be okay, I'll take care of you," Chuck said, wanting to kick himself three seconds later. She wouldn't be a good ally at all. He needed someone who would be able to survive. And Hannah sure wasn't that girl. She'd be dead right away. She just had that _look_ about her. The look of a child about to die. But she reminded him of Bella. And so that was why he reached a hand out to her.

At least he could trust her.

* * *

><p>Well duh, I had to put the paper dress thing in this chapter! It was in all my other stories, so it <em>had<em> to go in this one! (By the way, if you haven't read my other three SYOT's yet...well, what are you waiting for! Get on it! They're all complete and you can read while you wait for me to update this one).

I think it's time for me to start talking to the tributes again. _Damn, I thought we were going to luck out. _Oh shush Tory, or I'll put you in a paper dress. _You wouldn't dare!_ Oh really now? Just ask Autumn, or Myrrah, or Sabine. I totally would. _But I'm not one of Everbloom's characters. I don't belong in a paper dress. _Doesn't matter, I get to do whatever the hell I want! _You're mean. _You're not the only one to say that. I've been called much worse. _Bitch. _Oh Tory...

~*Misty*~


	13. Sarcasm and Numbers

**Fiver Flynn, District 3**

The crowd was going wild out in the stands. Fiver had to stand on the tips of her toes to peer out into the massive sea of people. There were so many out there! And she didn't know any of their names. Yet, they probably all knew hers. At least, Fiver hoped that they did. If they knew her name then that meant they were thinking about sponsoring her, and having sponsors was an important key to the game. And skill, she needed skill too. And luck. There were so many factors to winning the game. Good thing Fiver was good at winning.

Then again, when she played games with her family, she pretty much only won because she knew how to cheat. That's all it was. Cheating, tipping the odds into her favor. There had to be a way to easily win. And Fiver was just the type of girl to figure it out.

The chariot for District 1 was now inching its way out into the circle. The crowd went nuts. Fiver rolled on the balls of her feet, trying to get a better view. She hated that she was so darn short. But she knew it could be to her advantage. Being child numero cinco in her family, she knew how to get things her way. Surviving with so many other siblings was a challenge in itself, and she had made it to be seventeen, so obviously she knew a thing or two about living.

As always, the District 1 pair was a king and princess. Well, they looked like spoiled brats as always. They wore silky clothes that Fiver's family would never be able to afford and diamond jewelry that Fiver would never get to touch in her lifetime. They were sitting on their thrones. The boy was sulking, but the girl was waving with a huge smile on her face and a tiara on her head. The great thing about crowns was that they could always be removed.

"I'd like to knock that crown off myself," Fiver muttered under her breath.

"I'd like to blow it off," Cord amended.

"There's two of them," Fiver compromised with him. He grinned. They had themselves a deal.

With District 1 out of the way, it was time for District 2 to surface. See, Fiver knew how to count! She was a very smart child, or so her mother used to say. The tributes (whose names Fiver would never bother to learn) appeared. Really? That was all the stylists could come up with? How last season! Fiver didn't feel sorry for them though. That haughty girl and that brooding boy totally deserved what they had been forced to wear. Rocks. The girl in a dress of plain pebbles, the boy in a suit of jagged rocks. Once again, Fiver was glad to be from the District that liked to blow things up.

It really was a good District to hail from. Especially with her partner being Cord. Well, that would be a great way to cheat! Just blow the arena up! Set it ablaze. Watch the smoke choke all the other tributes. Hmm…Fiver needed to stop watching horror movies before bedtime…Naw, she liked horror movies. Especially the ones that had predictable endings. And she already knew the ending for her real life horror movie. And she would not be the stupid one to say "Hello, is anyone there?" while in an empty creaking house. Seriously, some people were so stupid!

"Well, maybe the arena will be a lake, and we can push them in the water and let them sink," Fiver said.

"I'll have to come up with a bomb that works underwater," Cord said, thinking about the many ways he could go about that. "It'll be difficult, but I think if I-"

Fiver tuned him out. She was good at that too. Many siblings, remember?

And after two came three. Wow, she really did know how to count! And she was smart enough to know that she was next.

"Smile," Cord reminded her as the chariot inched forward and the crowd began yelling at her. Well, not _at_ her, but _to_ her. She could pick out her name being shouted. Her name _and_ Cord's. That was the horrible thing about being one of twenty four. There was always someone who hated her amongst those that loved her. There would always be favorites. It was something that Fiver would never get used to, though! She should ALWAYS be the favorite. Really, what wasn't to love? She was kinda pretty, she was smart, and sarcastic. She always had a smart remark. The makings of a perfect girl. Like, seriously.

Fiver waved. The crowd went nuts. It was so easy to please them. Idiots. She hated stupid people. Really, they deserved to die. Hmm, now that would be much more interesting. Reaping stupid people and letting them hash it out to the death.

"Think nice thoughts," Cord whispered to her as if he could read her thoughts.

"I am," she replied back. If nice counted as _it's going to be so nice to rip One and Two to shreds._ Or, _won't it be nice when the Capitol gets a taste of their own medicine?_

Cord just shook his head slightly at her. Fiver rolled her eyes back at him and twisted backwards as the fourth chariot came into view. Another bunch of idiot careers. That was a breed that deserved to die but rarely did. Well, Karma was a bitch and would get them eventually, hopefully in the form of Fiver. It really would be fun to be known as the Victor who took out all the careers.

There were tons of fun things to do with the fishing district. Seriously. But these two hadn't lucked out, or maybe they had. Depending on the view point. Fiver was really glad to see that the District 4 tributes had been dressed up like fish getting gutted. At least, that's what it looked like to her. Well, that was exactly what she wanted to do with them.

"Do you even know how to scale a fish?" Cord asked, once again making Fiver think that he could read her mind. _Cough if you can hear me, _she thought. Cord coughed. _Shit…he can hear my thoughts!_ Cord grinned at her. It was just a coincidence. Right…She had learned long ago that there was no such thing.

District 4 rolled on through the crowds, and District 5 followed right behind.

"They don't even deserve to be here," Fiver said as she looked at the two who were most definitely blood bath tributes. Well someone had to be. And as long as it wasn't herself, she was fine with it.

"They might surprise you."

"Doubtful."

District 6 rolled into view. Two tributes stood on their chariot. The girl seemed to be adjusting alright to the loud noise and the bright lights. The boy seemed a tad bothered. Their chariot was nothing spectacular, in fact, the two of them looked rather boring. They were dressed to be doctors, both of them wearing scrubs. But it wasn't sexy scrubs or anything like that. Just two more tributes to be forgotten about.

"She looks promising," Fiver whispered, "Sixes are usually smart, right?"

"We need someone who can use a weapon, not someone with brains. We have you for that," Cord replied, brushing off the Six girl as an ally.

"I'm not _that _smart," Fiver retorted.

Besides, brains only got one so far in the games.

**Arien Sledge, District 9**

_"Hey Arien, look at what I can do!" Doran shouted as he took a running leap into the water. Arien looked up just in time to see the splash and even got a few splats of water on his face. He didn't mind It was a hot summer day, and the water felt refreshing. Doran came up and grinned. "Come on in. The water's great!"_

_Arien laughed, Doran always looked like a drowned puppy when he was swimming. The two of them were best friends, and Arien soon found himself in the water. They were ten years old, and weren't supposed to be at the lake by themselves. But when did ten year olds ever listen to what they were told?_

_"Hey, see how long I can hold my breath, 'k?" Doran said as he took a deep breath and then submerged himself in the water. The water wasn't clear at all. It was dark and murky and Arien couldn't even see his hand when he held it under the water. He had heard that over a thousand years ago, the water had been crystal clear, but he didn't know if he believed that. Words were not facts. Words could be made up, twisted into anything. _

_Arien counted like he had been taught, "one Panem, two Panem, three Panem." He continued all the way up to forty Panem and then thought that maybe Doran should have surfaced by now. After all, just yesterday Doran had only made it to twenty Panem. _

_"Doran?" Arien said, trying not to let the fear engulf his body. "Where are you?" Arien dove into the depth and opened his eyes, but he couldn't see anything. He reached around, feeling for any sign of his best friend. He grasped nothing but water. Why had they gone into the water? Why were they swimming when there was no adult supervision? Then, he felt it, a strand of Doran's long hair. Arien managed to get an arm around Doran and tried to pull, but something was dragging Doran down._

_Arien struggled to keep conscience, but he could feel his lungs begging for air. He shot upwards, hit the surface of the water and gulped before diving back down to his friend. This time Arien managed to find Doran quicker, and he quickly found the problem. Somehow Doran had gotten his foot caught in an old rope that was tied to an anchor. Arien's fingers slipped as he undid the rope. Arien didn't know if he was crying or if it was just the water, but as he brought his friend up to the surface, all Arien could taste was salt. A seasoning that Arien would never be able to tolerate again. _

_"Doran!" Arien screamed as he fell onto land, but Doran wasn't moving. "Come on, please wake up!" Arien pounded on Doran's chest. "HELP!" He screamed, eventually falling down next to Doran. "Please." He whispered._

"Arien," Charisma said, bringing Arien out of his daze. She was small, only twelve years old, the tiniest tribute this year. Three years older than his little sister Analisa, and just as naïve and vulnerable. "I'm scared." Her voice was barely a whispered as she huddled in the chariot. Dressed as typical hunters with fake bows, Charisma looked even more out of place.

"Count," he whispered, "that always helps me."

Charisma made a face that was clear she thought he was nuts. Arien shrugged, and finally looked out to see where they were on the line up. District 5 was finally rolling out.

So far the first few tributes were nothing specular. Same old costumes that were always seen. Except for those of District Four, perhaps. It seemed like they had been dressed as a fishing expedition gone wrong. There were fish guts everywhere! Someone was going to be in trouble. And it wouldn't be him. In past experience, Arien had found that stylists did awful costumes when they were mad, and it was usually for petty things. Those darn Capitol people always threw fits about everything, especially when they didn't get things their way. Well District people almost never got their way. Life wasn't fair.

Arien went back to solving an equation in his head, and he felt a sort of peace come over him. He always felt much better when his numbers were surrounding him. Of course, being from Nine, the only thing surrounding him was game. Well what else was supposed to be around the hunting District?

District 6 came and went, and 7 was slowly but surely making its way into the center of the stage so all of Panem could see. The girl looked bored as she stood there. Arien was shocked to see that for once 7 was not dressed like trees. Last year they had been pines, the year before that the tributes had been cedars. But this year they were dressed like lumberjacks. Well, the boy was. The girl more so like a slutty lumberjill. The chariot itself was dressed up like a house, and logs were all around them in piles.

"Why was six afraid of seven?" Arien asked, incorporating some number jokes to relieve the tension.

"Because seven ate nine," Charisma said in a _duh_ voice. "C'mon, give me something harder." But Arien was glad to see the slight smile play across her lips. It had worked. Well, at least until their chariot lurched forward as District 8 came into view.

They weren't anything spectacular. Just two kids dressed in some fancy cloth. At least District 9 had a better job than factory work.

"Fine, what do you get if you divide the circumference of a jack-o-lantern by its diameter?" Arien asked, succeeding in distracting Charisma. Her nose furrowed up as she tried to think. He could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she thought.

"I dunno," she finally said. "What?"

"Pumpkin pi!" Arien chortled, causing Charisma to laugh. And then it was their turn. Charisma's hand found his own, and her small fingers wedged between his. Hers were clammy and slippery, but Arien gave them a small squeeze. He had learned from having a sister that sometimes all a girl needed was a strong hand to hold.

"One Panem," Arien whispered.

"Two Panem," Charisma added.

"Three Panem," they said together.

And they counted up to one hundred as their chariot made the lap around. Charisma still held on tight even though the audience was now singing praises for District 10.

"Glad I'm not with him," she whispered. They were both staring, open mouthed, as the boy reached over to kiss the girl. The girl was not happy in the least bit. "His hands are very…."

"Not something for twelve year old eyes," Arien said, aiming his disgust at the 10 boy. "Really, this isn't a 'rated R' show."

"I have an older brother, it's okay," Charisma finally said, tearing her gaze away from where the boy was still roughly kissing the girl. The girl looked like she was about to either burst into tears, or smack his head off. Arien was hoping it would be the later. He _hated_ seeing girls cry. Especially when it was his sister, Analisa. He needed to get home and protect her from the horrors that were out there. Because there were boys like the Ten in every district. "But, I feel horrible for Chameleon, no girl deserves that. I hope she tears into Roan."

"How do you know their names?"

"I know all their names," Charisma said as Ten went out of view and it was Eleven's turn. "I have a good memory. Their names are Acacia and Leaf."

Arien didn't know any of their names except for his and Charisma's. He thought it would be so much easier if the tributes were numbers. It would be easier if _everyone_ had numbers actually. Now, numbers he could remember. Numbers were _so_ much better than letters. Numbers made sense.

Eleven's carriage was dressed like a field. There were corn stalks painted on the side of the chariot, and the boy was dressed like an apple tree while the girl had one of those long itchy skirts on, and a basket filled to the brim with real apples. The girl was hungrily eyeing them. Well of course, Elevens never got enough to eat.

Charisma began reciting off the names of the other tributes, starting with the pair from One. Arien ignored them as he watched twelve circle around. Nothing fancy for the coal mine district. In fact, this pair was lucky they weren't naked like last years' had been.

All twenty four of them had been on display, and only one could leave the fishbowl. But even the one who won would never get away from Panem's disapproving eye.

* * *

><p>Has your opinion changed about any of the tributes yet? What did you think about this chapter? Which was your favorite chariot?<p>

Please review._ But reviewing isn't fun! It's alot of work, and it's boring_. Hi Fiver, keep your opinions to yourself, okay? _But I'm very opinonated, and I speak my mind. _So I've noticed missy, but I'm also in charge of your fate, so you better stay on my good side. _What will you do to me, huh? _I'll kill you off! Just like I'll kill off the tributes belonging to those who don't review! _So my fate is in my mommy's hands?_ Don't worry, your mommy usually reviews. _Oh good. Mommy, keep that up, I want to live!_

~*Misty*~


	14. Backstabbing and Partying

**Cataria Bangladesh, District 10**

After that disgusting show that Roan put on, Cat ran to the bathroom as soon as she could. Even though she had taken ten showers that day already, she felt dirty and unclean. Plus, the Capitol showers were just so fun to use. There were all sorts of soaps and perfumes. The shower pressure could be changed from soft to hard. It was so different then the dinky one at her house that she shared with Cham and Mink. She could get used to the Capitol, actually. It was pristine white, with not a speck of dirt in sight. Except Roan, and he was more than a speck. And totally not worth her time.

After she was squeaky clean and all the soap bubbles were off of her pale white body, she dressed in a plain white dress that had been laid out on her bed. She wiggled into it and glanced at herself in the mirror. Managing to stifle the scream at the edge of her tongue, she grabbed at a brush and began to straighten out her hair. There was a blow dryer that claimed to dry in less than a minute, but they always made her hair poofy, and she didn't like that.

There was a rap on her door, just a single knock. Cat cringed. It seemed so out of place that she added another knock. But then she had to knock a few more times, just to make it even. "Who is it?" She called out in a whisper, afraid of the answer.

"Kanga," the voice of her mentor said. Kanga let herself in and watched Cataria with her silvery eyes. "Are you okay Chameleon?"

Cat was about to correct Kanga on the name when she realized that she couldn't. She was supposed to be pretending that she was her twin sister. She took a deep breath before answering, "I'm fine." It was _killing_ her not to correct Kanga. She hated when things were out of place or wrong. And being called Chaemeleon was wrong.

"Good. Roan looked like he was about to jump you."

Cat shivered just thinking about that. It had been _one_ of the worst moments of her life. Him on her body just made the past come back in heavy waves. "He wasn't _about _to, he _did!" _

Kanga shrugged, "well, no harm done, right? I had a talk with him, and he said he'll keep his hands to himself from now on." But from the way a slight smile played at the edge of Kanga's mouth, Cat had a feeling that Roan was lying. Typical Roan. Jumping any girl within a two inch radius. "But no more hitting him, 'k? It looks bad. At least try and act like you like him, until you get into the arena. You'll get more sponsors that way."

"Don't I want to look like I can put up a fight and stick up for myself? I need to show them that I'm capable of winning," Cat pointed out.

"Are you?"

Cat grabbed a Kleenex and began polishing the bed knobs as she thought. Dirt frightened her. She had only used a kitchen knife before. She didn't put much trust in her fellow tributes so an alliance was out. The only thing she was good at was climbing. Up in the trees was where she felt safest, which boggled her sisters to no end. Of course, one time she had climbed a tree she had gotten covered in spider webs and the like, it had put her off trees for about a week. But keeping Cat off of a tree was like keeping a mouse from cheese.

"That's what I thought," Kanga said, misinterpreting Cat's silence. "We're going to have a meeting down in the parlor, go over strategies and figure out what stations you should go to tomorrow for your training session. Don't be late."

Kanga swept out of the room, probably to go fuck Roan again. Well Cat should have told her that he wasn't that great. But since Kanga didn't have any faith in Cat, Cat wasn't going to enlighten her. Kanga would find out for herself soon enough, if she hadn't already.

Cat went back into the bathroom and grabbed a toothbrush. She had just cleaned them, but they still felt gritty. After she was positive that her appearance was absolutely perfect, Cat turned off all the lights and headed down the hall. There were torches lining the walls to light the way, and she touched each one as she walked by. Where was Cham with the baby wipes? It wasn't like she had a choice, it was just an urge that she had to touch stuff like lampposts and mailboxes, but then she needed to clean her hands 'cause who knew how many germs littered the world?

She was the last one into the room. Roan winked at her as she sat as far away from him as possible.

"Okay, you two," Kanga said, getting right down to business. She was the only person from Ten to have won the games, so she was practically a celebrity in the District. But from what Cat could tell, she wouldn't be that great of a mentor. Well, no wonder all of her mentees had died in the games.

"We're going to try District unity. You don't need to be allies," she added at Cat's glare. "Just try to get along."

"Sounds good to me," Roan said with a smile as he stretched his hands behind his head. Cat shivered. Why was she stuck with him?

"Chameleon?" Kanga asked in a cold voice, as if expecting trouble. Great. One minute with Roan and Kanga hated Cat already. She was screwed in the arena. Well…more so then she already was.

"Fine," Cat said bitterly. Unfortunately, she had to try and stay on Kanga's good side. Kanga lowered her eyes at Cat's tone of voice, but turned to Roan to go over some ideas. What was it about Roan that made all the girls swoon over him? Sure, he was attractive, but just in looks. As far as his personality, he was a dick head.

"Good. So, Roan," Kanga practically purred at him, making Cat sick to her stomach. "What are you good at?"

_Breaking hearts, stealing money, ruining dreams._ Cat thought, missing Roan's answer, which was fine by her. Even his voice made her cringe.

"So, I think you should stay away from the strength stations. Don't let the others know what you're good at. Try the weapons station though, find something that you'll be able to use."

Cat tuned out the Kanga and Roan's conversation and thought about how _she_ was going to survive since it seemed as if Kanga had no interest in keeping Cat alive.

"I could use a cigarette," Roan finally said, jolting Cat out of her reverie. That was such a nasty habit that he had. Cat had spent way too much of her precious time trying to convince him to stop.

"Here," Kanga tossed one over to him and soon enough the two of them were puffing away. Cat scrunched up her nose and tried not to breath in the deadly air. Her eyes wandered about the room. In the corner, part of the carpet was fraying and coming undone. There was a spider web on one of the walls, and a very annoying fly that wouldn't go close enough to get caught. So much for the cleanliness of the Capitol. She had half a mind to clean it herself.

After Kanga finally deemed Roan ready for training, she switched over to Cat.

"Just learn as much as you can Chameleon. I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

With a, "good night," Kanga was out the door, leaving Cat in the same vicinity by Roan. Cat searched around in horror, looking for their escort, but sometime during the meeting, he had snuck out. Shit. She was so screwed. Literally.

"If you touch me, I'll tell!" Cat threatened.

"Try it _Cham,_ see what happens," he threatened back as he quickly reduced the amount of space between the two of them.

Blackmail was such a bitch. Especially when her secret was such an important one to keep.

**Castiel De la Vega****, District 2**

"Are you paying attention to me?" Tallulah said with a biting tone. She reached across the table to grab a roll. "Ugh, so many carbohydrates in this thing," she said as she tore it into small pieces. Castiel had a feeling she'd be doing that with things other than just bread.

"Just trying to figure out how long we would need to have sex to burn off all the calories you're eating," Castiel said, ducking to avoid a roll that was headed for his nose.

"You're a dick," Tallulah sneered at him, but she pushed away her plate and announced that she was done.

"And you're a bitch," Castiel shot back.

"Now you two, quit it," their female mentor, Hermione, said. But she didn't seem to mean it. She was busy whispering to Castiel's father in the corner. Castiel was seething mad at the fact that his father, Roman, was the male mentor. This was going to be bad, real bad.

"I'm sorry," Tallulah said with an angelic smile, "I don't know what came over me."

Castiel snorted at her obviously fake tone. He hated girls like her. He was able to see past her façade, and being with some bitch made him miss Addie's calming nature. Why couldn't all girls be more like her? Addie was just a calm and genuinely nice person. But not the type of nice where others took advantage of her.

"Might as well let them go at it, it's the only thing Castiel knows," Roman said in an even tone.

"Well, you'd know, you're the one who taught me," Castiel bit back. Tallulah watched with mild interest as father and son had a stare down. "Leave me alone!" Castiel finally said, pushing back in his chair and stalking out of the room. No one chased after him.

Castiel didn't want to be here. Didn't want to be in the Capitol with his father. Didn't want to have to go into the games. Sure, he knew he _could_ win, but he didn't _want_ to win. Not really. He had seen re-runs of his father's games. Roman had been a ruthless killer, and Castiel didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps. Castiel refused to believe that the apple had fallen close to the tree. But to win, he had to become his father. And he had to put up with Tallulah's bitchy personality, at least, for a little while. And it just took the kind of strength that Castiel didn't possess.

He wandered up to the roof top and looked down at the bright city lights. The Capitol sure was different at night. He could hear noises coming from a nightclub down the street, and it made him miss the nights when he was out until the wee hours of the morning, drinking and clubbing and pretending that real life didn't exist.

"You're Castiel, right?" A voice from behind him asked, making Castiel jump. The voice didn't point that out though, for which Castiel was grateful. He didn't want to be classified as the tribute that jumped at every little sound. For the first time he noticed that he wasn't alone on the rooftop. There were a handful of others there as well. Why they were being allowed to fraternize with the enemy before the games was beyond him. Maybe if a death happened _before_ the games, then the Capitol would change the rules. But until that occurred, the roof was mutual territory.

"Who wants to know?" Castiel replied back gruffly.

"No need to bite my head off, I'm Pontus," the boy said with a wink. Wait….what? Sure enough, Pontus had _winked_. Castiel kind of felt violated. "District 4."

Oh, right, so they would be part of an alliance then. Damn Roman. It was his fault that the Careers had been invented and Ones, Twos, and Fours made an automatic alliance. Not for the last time, Castiel thought mean things about the man who had fathered him.

"And this is Zep," Pontus said with an almost loving tone, but if anyone had noticed it, they didn't say. However, Zep kind of blushed. Maybe it was just the lighting. In fact, Castiel _hoped_ it was just the lighting. Just what he needed. A gay guy in the Career group.

"And I'm Kendra, I think we're going to do great things together," the girl that Castiel hadn't noticed at first said. She stepped out into the light and extended her hand. Castiel ignored it. "Don't worry, you'll warm up to me, I know you will!" She swept her short brown hair behind her ears and then sat down again next to the girl from One who was introduced as Victory.

"Tory actually," she corrected.

So it was all Careers up on the roof. The only one missing was Tallulah. Maybe he could do something quick to get her kicked off the alliance. It would make his life that much stress free.

"Where's your partner?" Pontus asked, making _partner_ sound like a dirty word.

"Why, you think she's hot?" Castiel shot back.

"I'm hurt," Pontus said, making a wounded face, "why would you say that? Obviously I think _you're_ the hot one!"

"Hey!" Zep protested, "What about me!"

_Great_. The Careers this year were hopeless. Castiel had his work cut out for him. There was Tory who was a spoiled brat and had probably never gotten even a pinky dirty. There was Zep who thought the world revolved around him. Tallulah who was a fake bitch. Pontus who was gay, and Kendra who believed in fate. What a circus this would be. A joke.

"I need a drink," a new voice said as a new person joined them up on the roof. The Careers turned to see the boy from Ten. "Roan," he informed him before anyone asked. Not that any of them probably would have. Since Roan was from Ten, that made him a nobody. Roan pulled something from behind his back and popped the tab. "Ah, much better, anyone?" He offered the can of beer around. Castiel grabbed for it and took a swag. The liquid was hot and slimy, but it was something. Roan offered it to the others, but they all turned it down.

"Goody two-shoes," Roan muttered under his breath as he zeroed in on the two girls sitting in chairs. He made a beeline for them and squeezed himself between Tory and Kendra. "Hey, how you doin?" He asked. Castiel was surprised that neither girl fainted.

"What about your girlfriend?" Kendra asked in a sultry voice as she pulled Roan towards her, which seemed to relieve Tory.

"What about her?" Roan said as he gazed into her eyes.

"Gross," Castiel rolled his eyes and left the roof top. He didn't care what the others did as long as he didn't have to witness it. He padded back to the second floor and found his room. It was late and his head was buzzing from the sip of beer he had taken. The bed in the plainly decorated room looked warm and inviting. He threw himself on top of it and closed his eyes. Tomorrow would be training, and he wanted to get a semi-decent amount of sleep before he had to deal with everyone's crap tomorrow.

* * *

><p>Oh boy. These tributes this year...very entertaining to say the least. Makes for good chapters though.<p>

_Your room is a mess! _Is not Ca-I mean-Cham. It's just a little...unorganized. You're welcome to come clean it for me though._ If I clean it, will you write the next chapter? _Well, about that, see, I need reviews first, then maybe I'll write. _You're being too demanding. _And you're a neat freak. _And you can't keep insulting us. _Actually, I can. _You're mean._ I know, I've been over this before.

~*Misty*~


	15. Food and Fights

**Joliet Richemont, District 7**

Morning came too early for Jo. But at least she was awoken by the sound of the birds chirping outside of her window rather than the harsh tones of her mother. Not that she would be able to escape that for long. Roma always had Jo's best interests at heart, but sometimes Roma came across as tough and strict. Jo stretched in bed as she listened to the songs of the flying creatures outside. Birds were always so calming. Jo missed the forest already. She was really hoping for an arena filled with trees and animals. She had a shot no matter what the arena was, but if it was a forest then her odds of coming home alive went up even more.

Because she was the daughter of a victor, Jo knew how to survive. Roma had taught her daughter well, and Jo had the skills. Training today would be a breeze. She found the shirt that she was supposed to wear and then headed over to the room where breakfast was being served. Each District had their own room on their corresponding floor in which to eat breakfast and lunch. The room designated for that was very plainly decorated with only one photo marring the wall. It was an old photo of Roma. Jo hadn't realized it was there last night. She took a step closer and saw the hard eyes of her mother, the same, but not the same as the eyes that Jo had always known. Photo Roma was younger, a hardness about her that the games had brought about. The games ruined many lives. Roma's was just one of them.

"Good morning Joliet," Roma's voice came from the corner of the room, startling Jo. She hadn't known that her mother was there already.

"Morning, mother." Jo tried to keep her voice as even as possible even though she just wanted to run into Roma's arms and be a child again. "Anything good to eat?"

Roma shrugged. Jo went over to check out the buffet herself. It was a nice spread. There was nothing that Jo wasn't used to, though. After all, she had grown up in the Victor's Village and had always had enough to eat. She filled a plate and settled down at the table situated in the middle of the room. Linden came in while she was chomping into an apple.

"Hey," he said with sleepy eyes. Seemed like he didn't get many hours of sleep.

"Eat up. You two have a big day ahead of you," Cedar said. He was the other Victor, and for the most part, he did all the talking. Roma didn't mind. She was a very quiet person.

Jo had never been to the Capitol before, even though her mother went every year to be a mentor. Jo had never been interested in her mother's job, because she found it jut dreadful. It wasn't really Roma's fault, though. Roma had never _asked_ for this job. It had been given to her as a "reward" for winning the Games.

"Do you have a strategy yet?" Cedar asked after forks slowed down and the chewing came to a slow halt. "Because we need to get you two down to the training center soon. It's good to have an idea of what you want to do."

"I want to learn as much as I can," Linden said, being wary of the fact that Jo was right there next to him. He hadn't said much to her at all. Well, he had always been shy at school.

"Good. That's good Linden. Just don't stand out, okay?" Cedar turned back to Jo, "you _definitely_ don't want to stand out, missy. As the daughter of Roma, the others are going to want you gone early, so don't do _anything _to get yourself noticed."

Jo nodded, but the fact of the matter was, she hated being in a dark corner, hated going unnoticed. But what Cedar said made sense. If she made herself standout, then the Careers would make sure to go after her first. And while she might be able to hold her own against one, or maybe even two, careers, she sure as hell wouldn't be able to fight the whole crew.

"In fact, it might be better if you appear to be weak," Cedar amended. Jo looked over to see what her mother thought of that idea.

"I taught you well Jo, but the others don't know that. Stay on the downlow," Roma agreed. "And Linden, do your best to stay in the shadows as well. A key part to the games is not to make enemies early on."

"Yes Ms. Richemont," Linden said solemnly. Jo found it really weird to hear her mother being called by her last name.

"Good luck, you two."

Jo and Linden headed down to the training center and both of their jaws dropped when the saw the expansive room filled with stations for them to glean whatever information they could.

The Careers were already there, hustled in their own little corner. Jo sized them up. She could take the Two girl and Four girl. They both looked kind of weak, or at least, not as strong as Jo. It was the One girl that worried Jo, because One was the daughter of a victor as well. And if Jo had skills, then One surely did as well. Then there were the Career boys. Two had a father who was a victor and Four had both of his parents as victors. Something fishy was definitely going on. Jo wouldn't be surprised if the reapings had been rigged or something. The Gamemakers were known to do that on occasion, just to _spice_ things up.

After all the tributes had arrived and the number of their district had been pinned to their backs, the rules were explained and they were allowed to go off on their own.

Jo headed off to the _Snares and Knots_ station. Not that she would ever be serious about learning either of those things. She just didn't have the patience. That wasn't one of her virtues. Not that she had any virtues to begin with.

Everyone else stayed clear of that station. She didn't blame them. It was probably the most boring station of them all. But it went with the whole _keeping a low profile_ thing.

"And then this end loops around this end, and you pull, see?" The station manager said as Jo pretended to be listening. Knowing how to tie knots wasn't going to help her.

"Thanks," Jo said throwing the rope down on the counter. She glanced around the room wondering where to go to next. The berry station was jumping with excitement. Guess all the kids from the lower district wanted to learn how to distinguish berries so they could survive. Jo would steer clear of the stations with a lot of other tributes.

She wondered if she wanted to find an ally or not. Probably not. That person would just be dead weight. She didn't need anyone anyway. Jo was perfectly capable of winning the games all on her own. Unlike the Careers, she didn't need a big alliance backing her, and _that_ was what set her apart from the others. _That_ was her ticket to winning.

Jo settled on the station that boasted _How To Find Water._ That would be a good skill to learn, and that most likely meant that there wouldn't be an obvious water source in the arena. And water was very important to survival. And food, but that wasn't as high on her list as water and weapons. And maybe she'd luck out and the arena would be lined with food, like corn or something. Well, one never knew.

Jo listened intently to all the ways that she could get fresh water. With either a purifier, that a sponsor would have so send to her, or by boiling it, which she would need fire for. And fires weren't always feasible.

"Okay tributes, it's lunch time, head on over to the tables specified for lunch," a Gamemaker with a very high squeaky voice said, making Jo cringe.

There were ten round tables over in the corner. The Careers commandeered one, leaving nine for the rest of them. Linden and Jo were joined by the girl from Six and the pair from Nine.

"I'm Lyrah," Six said with a bright smile.

"Arien, and this is Charisma," the Nine boy said. It didn't look like Linden was going to say anything, so Jo spoke up for the both of them.

"Jo and Linden."

"Nice to meet you," Lyrah said, even though it wasn't very nice at all. Not in the situation they were in, at any rate. Maybe under different circumstances. No one pointed it out to the bright eyed Lyrah though.

"You're kinda cute," Lyrah said to Linden, causing him to blush and Jo to roll her eyes. Well, Lyrah certainly was bold. "I like to eat cute boys for a midnight snack," she said it so evenly that the rest of them could only stare. "What? I'm kidding. Jeesh, relax."

"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't taste that great," Jo pointed out. "Maybe with some salt and pepper though."

"Hmm, I'll have to let my sponsors know that I'll need some seasoning while in the arena. Much better than a knife, don't you think?"

Everyone handled their sentence differently. Obviously, Lyrah was cracking jokes to deal with the stress of the games. Jo usually went to sarcasm. But Lyrah was taking it to a whole new level. Jo found herself smiling. Lyrah seemed to have a good head on her shoulders at least. Jo wouldn't have to worry about her in the arena though. Doubtful that Lyrah knew how to use a weapon. But anyone could surprise Jo.

"Can you stop planning me as a meal?" Linden finally said, Jo could tell that it was a struggle for him. She was proud of him though, for actually speaking up and making himself known.

"What about sautéing him with some lemon slices?" Charisma said. "Lemons are a very fragrant citrus."

"With some onions and spinach," Lyrah added.

"Two cups of spinach cook down into 1 tablespoon," Arien said out of the blue, causing them all to stare at him. Jo had never been much of a cook, she wasn't sure what spinach really was. A lettuce wannabe or something like that. The gross healthy food.

"You're from Nine, right?" Lyrah said as she knitted her eyebrows in confusion. He nodded. "That's what I thought, but you're supposed to be-" she trailed off.

"Dumb as a doorknob," Arien supplied.

"Well I was going to put it in a nicer way, like dumb as a Career," she grinned, showing off some teeth that could use a few years of braces.

"Funny," Arien said under his breath in a tone that suggested it was anything but.

"Alright tributes, lunch is over, back to training," the same Gamemaker with the annoying voice said. Jo left the table without another word to the others.

**Pontus, District 4**

Pontus stayed in his seat as the others scattered, heading to various stations. The other Careers weren't on the same page at the moment. They all wanted to go somewhere else. So Pontus watched to see which tribute was good at what. It was amusing watching the girl from Three try to use even a small pen knife. It would be easy to off her. She didn't look like she had even seen a paring knife before in her life. And the boy from Six was having difficulties at the rock climbing station.

He shrugged then went over to where Zep was dancing with a sword. Pontus stopped a few feet short just to watch the boy with purple tips in his otherwise midnight black hair. There was something intriguing about Zep's eyes. Pontus had a strong urge to get to know the boy from One just a little bit better. The little bit of time on the roof last night had not been enough.

"Good thrust," Pontus said as he shook the hair out of his eyes. Zep took a step back, throwing the sword into the air, and slid forward on his knees to catch the sword by the hilt. "Show off," Pontus chuckled.

"You try it then," Zep challenged, presenting the sword to Pontus, like a peace offering. Pontus grabbed it, blade end, withdrawing his hand and sticking it in his mouth with a tiny "ow."

"First rule of weaponry, never grab it by the sharp end," the guy at the station said. "The person offering the weapon always gives the other person the hilt.

"Unless the plan was to stab the person all along," Castiel said as he moseyed on over to them. He took a sword and met eyes with Zep. The two boys circled each other, daring the other to make the first move. Pontus watched silently, wondering which one to root for. They seemed evenly matched, and for the first time, Pontus felt a stab of fear. Because he wasn't like Castiel and Zep. Pontus had never been trained, had never been _allowed_ to train. His mother was a gentle soul and outright refused to let her only son train for the deadly games.

And it was obvious that both Castiel and Zep knew what they were doing. A quick glance over at the obstacle course, where Tory was zipping around and showing the fake plants who was boss, confirmed his fears. He was not ready for this. But Pontus had one thing going for him that none of the others did.

His wonderful charming smile and charismatic personality. No one would want to kill Pontus, he was too wonderful to destroy.

The unpleasant sound of clanking metal on metal brought Pontus's attention back to where Castiel and Zep were now glaring at each other.

"It appears that we have a winner," the man at the station said in delight, grabbing Castiel's hand and holding it up far. Castiel withdrew it with a scowl. "Just like your old man boy, just like him!"

Castiel did not seem happy with that comparison at all. And Pontus knew how that felt. He hated being compared to his father as well. Castiel was kind of cute with that scowl on his face, and Pontus found himself dreaming again. Oh to be young. And in love. Granted, Pontus hadn't found his love yet. But he was close, so close, he could feel it in his heart. So many cutie boys were around, that Pontus didn't even know where to start. It was almost like he was on a dating show. It seemed like a much better reality show then the one he would really be the star in.

The other tributes were whispering behind their hands, making a mental note to stay clear of Castiel. For it was clear who held the real talent in these games.

Pontus headed over to where Roan was currently lounging, and took a seat. There was something mildly interesting about the boy from 10 that Pontus found quite intriguing.

"You're never going to learn how to handle a knife just by sitting here," Pontus said, putting a little bit of flare into his words.

Roan regarded him closely before responding, "everything I need to know, I already do. Plus, I'm not the one that needs help with handling knives." Roan gave Pontus a small wink that made Pontus blush even though he didn't know why. There was nothing embarrassing about that statement, was there?

"Hey," Kendra said as she slid in next to Roan. "I think the stars aligned just right to have us in the games together."

Pontus rolled his eyes, she was so gay. Hmm, he had always wondered what it would be like to date a lesbian. Unfortunately, Kendra didn't strike him as a lesbian, just as a girl who said off the wall things that made her seem stupid and annoying. From the way Roan was flirting back with her, it seemed like she was right up his alley.

Pontus left the two of them to flirt without interruptions and headed over to the station where the Threes were being very secretive.

"Howdy partner," Pontus greeted them. Neither the girl nor the boy seemed very thrilled to see him. "I'm-"

"Fishguts," the girls supplied as she tried to hide whatever it was that she was working on.

Pontus gave her a quizzical look, how had she come up with that.

"Your costume from the chariots," the boy was nice enough to explain. The girl sighed in exasperation. It was clear that the two of them did not appreciate anyone else's company. There had to be someone around that would talk to Pontus. He almost felt like breaking out in song. Now that would be a blast. Hmmm.

"You Are My Sunshine/My only sunshine/You make me happy/When skies are grey/You'll never know, dear/How much I love you/Please don't take my sunshine away."

Pontus had great lungs for belting lyrics out of his mouth. The whole room stopped what they were doing to stare in amusement at Pontus. Well, he hoped it was in amusement. There were a few tributes shaking their heads in disgust, and he could have sworn he heard Castiel mutter the word "queer."

"This isn't Panem Idol, _jackass._" Pontus wasn't sure who had yelled that, but it really wasn't nice.

"Hey, leave him alone, I thought he did great," one of the girls said. Pontus thought she was from Six.

"Oh, so you're in love with the queer, Six?" Castiel sneered at her.

"It's Lyrah actually. Just ask Fiver, it's not nice to be called by numbers. Nor is it nice to call others queer, or jackass." Lyrah shot back. Pontus was pretty sure that she called Castiel a bastard at the end of the sentence though. It was kind of hard to tell since the rest of the room was erupting with shouts and yells.

"Who's Fiver?"

"Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"I want to go home."

"The song wasn't _that_ bad."

"I thought I was getting away from all the drama."

"Hey, I like the show Panem Idol."

"It's a stupid show, like you."

"You're stupid."

"Immature idiots."

"Popcorn, anyone?"

And before anyone could stop the children, bodies were being flung and punches were being thrown. A huge mosh pot of a fight had started all because Pontus had decided to break out in song. His father would be so proud.

All of a sudden, there was a loud whistle and all twenty four tributes whirled around to stare at the woman. "That's enough!" She shouted. "Everyone get back to your floor. training is over for the day. You better come back tomorrow with your attitudes straightened up."

After the boy from Six hobbled out, she closed the door behind them. "This will be an interesting year," she said to the empty room. "Very interesting."

* * *

><p>Reviews are fun. <em>Yes they are, I like to use them as a sled on a snow filled mountain. <em>Do you even get snow in District 7 Jo? _Well, I can dream at least._

_~*Misty*~  
><em>


	16. Rivalry and Alliances

**Hannah Matthews, District 8**

Her hair was pulled up tight, her eyes were puffy and swollen and her cheeks were very wet after yet another night of crying herself to sleep.

**Wimp, **the voice inside her head said.

"Shut up Sarah," Hannah whispered fervently. But Sarah just laughed evilly inside of her head. Hannah wished that there was a way to shut up her alter-ego. She hated Sarah, hated her with a passion. Too bad Sarah wasn't a different body of flesh and bones. Otherwise Hannah would be making a kill in the arena. **D'aw, I'm so proud of you. My wittle Hannah is thinking dark and murderous thoughts. Maybe you will be able to survive in the arena without my help.**

There was a knock on the door, "Hannah, are you awake yet?" Her mentor**,** Blaize**,** said from the other side of the door. "Breakfast is getting cold."

**Oh good, I'm starving,** Sarah said happily. Hannah saw images of the types of food that Sarah was craving, it was all the types that Hannah hated. **What do you think is for breakfast, I hope it's something good.**

"Coming," Hannah called back, ignoring the greedy voice in her head. She took one last look of herself in the mirror, decided that there was nothing she could do to fix her appearance, and met Blaize outside the door.

"You look like you had a terrible night," Blaize remarked. "We'll have to have your stylist fix that before you go to training. You shouldn't be seen looking like that."

Hannah just nodded as she followed Blaize down the hallway to the parlor where breakfast was waiting. Chuck was there, finishing the food on his plate. His eyes were out of focus, staring off into space. Hannah hadn't really talked to him all that much. All he could seem to talk about was that girl and the reason he had volunteered. **Yeah, I'm sick of hearing that story, it's so boring**_._ Hannah pretended not to hear Sarah. But Sarah hated being ignored, and was soon singing a very annoying song.

"Better eat up Hannah," Blaize reminded her gently. "You have to be down for training in less than an hour."

**I hope it's as entertaining as it was yesterday**_, _Sarah said. She had tried so hard to get out yesterday that Hannah had gotten a major migraine. It had been worth it to keep Sarah at bay. Luckily, it had disappeared after a night of fitful sleep.

Hannah grabbed a biscuit and tried to force it down her queasy stomach while Blaize went over the game plan. "Hannah, just stay under the radar again, don't make any enemies, keep to yourself, but learn as much as you can. It will be alright, I promise. And Chuck, for goodness sake, stop with the sob story, everyone's heard it by now, and they all know why you're here."

"But, Tahlia-"

"Yes, I know, you're doing it for her, we all know that. But it makes you more of a target. You can't help her if you're dead."

Chuck looked down at the hourglass. Hannah thought it seemed like the sand was flowing more quickly now. Determined to get to the bottom of the contraption. The one thing that Chuck didn't want. Once all the sand was gone, that was the end of Tahlia.

"Okay, Hannah, go see your stylist real quick, and then get down to the training room."

Hannah looked down at her plate. Her poor biscuit had been torn apart into pieces. She hated leaving it, because it looked so sad, but she had no choice. She wasn't hungry anyway, not with her stomach yelling obscenities at her. And by stomach, she meant Sarah.

Her stylist shook his head when he saw the state she was in. "But dah'ling, you need to take bett'er care of your'self." He spoke in the annoying way that the other Capitolites spoke. Where they took one word and made it seem like two. "You lo'ok like a right mess."

It didn't take him long to fix her up. Well, his version of fixing up. Hannah didn't even recognize her reflection in the mirror.

She was the last one into the training room. They were all waiting for her as no one could start until all twenty four tributes were accounted for. **Come on, Hannah, show them how tough we are**_._

Hannah tuned out the rules. They were probably the same as they had been yesterday. The tributes scattered, the careers went back to the weapons station, grabbing some Avoxes to practice with this time.

**That looks like fun**_,_ Sarah drawled out as she watched one of the boy's slash at the Avox. _Don't even think about it,_ Hannah warned her. But it was too late. It never took Sarah that long to take over when she really wanted to. Yesterday was just a test to see just how far she could push Hannah.

Sarah undid her hair, the beautiful locks fell down amongst her shoulders. Much better. Hannah always pulled it up so tight.

_Let me out!_ Hannah banged at their shared mind. _It's my body!_

But it was Sarah's now. She bounded over to the Careers, and grabbed the first weapon she could get her hands on. It was just an average, every day sword. She could feel Hannah flinching. Sarah felt as if the world was right again. She grabbed an Avox and went over to the practicing area.

"Ha, look at this, the Eight is going to show us how to use a weapon," the girl with a Two on her back said. The others snickered. Sarah just grinned. She'd definitely show them. Even the Avox didn't look frightened. Happy that he had been chosen by a lowly Eight instead of a Career.

Sarah gripped the sword and made sure her feet were the perfect distance. This was nothing she hadn't done before. Hannah seemed frightened, but Sarah didn't care. And without a single bit of hesitation, Sarah whipped forward, slashing the weapon in the air and bringing it down on the Avox. A silent scream swept out of the mouth of the wounded boy. Sarah sidestepped to the Avox that one of the Careers was currently torturing. Sarah wasn't allowed to hurt the other Career, not after the fight that had taken place yesterday. They could only hurt the Avoxes today. Sarah threw herself into the air and landed on her feet behind the Avox. With an upward slash, she took off the arm of the Avox. She jumped up in the air again, did a giant display of twirling as if she had been a ballerina in another life and then landed with a flourish, leaving the rest of the room in shock. Oh if they only knew what else she could do.

The Careers stared at Sarah, they definitely hadn't been expecting that. Sarah flipped back her hair, gave a wide smile and then flaunted away. Let's see what they made of that display! _Blaize said not to make a spectacle of ourselves. _**Technically she said not to make a spectacle of yourself, meaning you. She said nothing to me.**

That shut Hannah up. Sarah grinned at winning yet another argument and wandered about, looking for another tribute to show up. There was no way she was going to look like a weakling. She wanted everyone to be terrified of her from the start. She refused to let Hannah have them be seen as weak. Sarah was competition, and that was that.

"Hannah, right?" One of the Careers asked. Sarah turned to see it was the girl from One. "I'm Tory, and I was talking with the others, and you're good enough to be part of our alliance."

It wasn't an invitation, it was a requirement. Hannah was screaming in her head, telling her not to accept the alliance. Hannah had a few reasons why she hated the Careers. Sarah liked doing things to piss Hannah off, and this would definitely cause Hannah to see red.

"Absolutely."

The two girls shook on it, and Sarah started coming up with the ways she would kill them.

**Cord McCauley, District 3**

The girl from 8 had appeared as a weakling, and then, out of nowhere, she grabbed a sword and slashed off the arm of a poor Avox. Wasn't the whole point of appearing weak to keep the others in suspense and not to show true colors until the arena? And of course, earlier, he had completely fallen for her weak act, she just looked like a girl who didn't even know what a sword looked like. And now she had proven everyone wrong.

"Remind me not to get on her bad side," he muttered under his breath for Fiver to hear. She nodded grimly.

"Looks like we have competition. Too bad we can't get her on our side."

"She'd turn on us in a heartbeat," Cord pointed out. "Anyone here would, we can't trust anyone."

"Even each other?"

"Especially each other," Cord said grimly.

"I promise you I'll only kill you if-"

"Hey!" Cord interrupted.

"-you piss me off," Fiver finished. That was as good as deal as any. He wouldn't get that kind of deal with anyone else. So he bumped fists with his ally. "I still think we need a third though, at least in the beginning. That way, there's more odds of us surviving a few more days. At least one person in every alliance dies on day one. So if we have a third, hopefully that person will be the first to go."

"So glad I have a smart partner."

Fiver grinned at him. And Cord was reminded of the girl who was the sister of his friend. The girl who would hide in the closet and jump out just to scare them. The girl who would put hot sauce in the food her mother had prepared and then grin when everyone's face turned beet red. He was glad to have her as a partner. She was a prankster, and had pulled some good ones in her time. He felt safer with her around.

"So _partner_, what station do you want to hit next?" Fiver asked him, stressing the partner. They glanced around the big room at all the stations. The Careers were still showing the Avoxes who was boss. Cord gulped as he saw the boy from Two knock down a blonde Avox girl who was two times smaller than he was.

He pointed at the plant station. It never hurt to be able to tell which were poisonous. Fiver sighed, but followed him over.

"Is it too cliché to say that it would kind of be fun to slip the poisonous berries into the Career's food supply."

"That can be your job," Cord told her, "I'm not stupid enough to get caught. You remember last year when that girl from Five tried it? Her death was so bloody and brutal, it took her five hours to die."

Fiver shivered just thinking about that. The poor girl had the worst death that Fiver had ever witnessed in all of her years of watching the Games. The girl's guts were everywhere, and yet, miraculously, her heart still beat on, and she was conscious for most of the pain and torturing. "We'll stick with our other plan, the odds for us surviving are much better that way."

They were each given a basket of plants and were told to sort the edible plants from the poisonous. There were so many different plants and berries and stalks and roots and Cord had no idea where to start first. Three didn't have a lot of plant life like that.

"What do you think about this one?" He asked Fiver, who looked just as lost as he did. It was a big leafy plant with a pinkish looking stalk. "It looks tasty enough."

Fiver made a face. "Well then, you can be the guinea pig."

"That's actually rhubarb," the woman at the station said. "do either of you know what rhubarb is?"

Cord and Fiver both shook their heads, a wisp of Fiver's hair managed to stick its way into Cord's mouth, he sputtered and coughed, "Yuck."

"It's looks edible," Cord said.

"I dunno," Fiver hedged.

The woman smiled, "you're both right. This was a trick question. The stalk is edible, while the leaves are not. They are poisonous, high in oxalic acid. You'll probably both have rashes from touching the leaves. If you ingest it, you'll be dead before the day is up. It used to not be so poisonous, but it's genetically enhanced now."

Cord had already dropped the plant and was looking at his hands, a red welt was already forming. Luckily for Fiver, she had not touched the plant at all. She smirked at Cord who was now itching his left hand.

"It'll make it worse," the woman replied. She actually seemed to be enjoying the show. "Here's some ointment for it. Just rub it on and it should soothe the skin. Don't touch the plant if you see it in the arena, because you probably won't bet getting any ointment."

"I'll keep that in mind," Cord winced as he made a grab for the small container. His face softened up as the cool lotion went to work soothing his burning hand. He had learned his lesson and would probably never touch another leaf again. "Let's go somewhere else," he said to Fiver, not wanting to make the same mistake twice.

But Fiver shook her head and gripped his arm, dragging him back down to the stool. "This is useful information."

The woman nodded, "the more you know, the better off you are. Remember two years ago when there were no animals whatsoever and the tributes had to rely on plants and berries for their food source, or what their mentors sent in?"

"So what here _is _good?" Fiver asked. The woman just smirked. Fiver groaned, but she dumped out her basket. And, learning from Cord's mistake, she used the sleeves of her shirt to sort. Cord watched the woman's face as Fiver tried to figure out which was which. The woman's face was made of stone, and didn't give away anything. Fiver was determined to get it right though. After she had sorted, she did one more change and then looked up at the woman.

"Think you got it?" The woman asked. Fiver shrugged. "Well, let's go over everything, we'll start with what you categorized as edible." She picked up a bunch of green leaves, "this is garlic mustard, it's safe to eat, and smells like garlic, hence its name."

She handed it to Cord to smell. He scrunched up his nose. Definitely smelled like garlic. "I hope this is in the arena, it'll keep the vamp-I mean- Careers, away."

Fiver had gotten two edible plants correct, and three poisonous ones correct, the rest she had been wrong about. But now she knew what she could eat in the arena.

"Let's move on," Cord said, and the two of them left the station and headed to their next big adventure.

* * *

><p>Please review. I know you can do it! <em>Yes we can! <em>See, even Cord has faith in you. _It's not too hard to review, I'd do it if I could, but since I'm a figment of your imagination, I don't have fingers! _Aw, Cord, you can do anything if you believe in yourself.

*~Misty~*


	17. Flirting and Teasing

**Lyrah Henley, District 6**

_"And when the sun goes down, at least the stars are shining" _

Lyrah filed out of the training room, wishing she could run back in. She wasn't finished training, for goodness sakes! She still had so much to learn. Two days was not enough time for her brain to soak up everything that she wanted to know. Lyrah sighed, _oh well_, nothing she could do about it now. And now she could stare at a certain tribute's back without anyone else noticing.

Sure, the Games weren't the place for meeting those of the opposite sex. But really, put twelve girls and twelve guys in the same room, and feelings are bound to happen. Boys were there for girls to look at, and vice versa. After all, girls wouldn't have boobs if guys didn't like to look at them.

They had another free night to do whatever they pleased, and most of the other tributes had gone to their favorite hangouts. They had only been there for a few days, and they had already broken up into their separate groups. It was easy to make friends and enemies. Lyrah had already made an enemy, but it wasn't _her_ fault she had bumped into Tory and spilt her milk all over the other girl's black shirt. It had been Albacore's fault. He still wasn't used to his broken leg, and wasn't walking that great. He was going to be a horrible mess in the arena. Lyrah sure as hell wasn't allying with him, even if they were from the same district. No siree, she didn't have a death wish. Well, not for herself at any rate. Maybe for a few of the other tributes.

Lyrah watched Albacore limp into the elevator that would take them to the sixth floor. He slumped against the wall as they zoomed upwards.

"How was training?" Their escort asked. Lyrah gave a noncommittal answer as she zipped to her private quarters to gussy up for the night. Lyrah wasn't one for lots of makeup, but she did like to look decent. Now her sister. Natalie, that girl loved to dress up and experiment with lipstick colors. Natalie planned to be famous one day, and Lyrah knew that Natalie had it in her. If anyone could succeed and make it to the bright lights, then Natalie could.

Lyrah dabbed on some blush and stuck her head out into the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief when no one was around. The elevator was empty, and she tried to press the button to another floor, but without correct clearance she couldn't go to that floor. The roof button lit up and she was soon zooming upwards again at a high speed. Lyrah really wished that there were still working rollercoasters around. It was something that had greatly appealed to her adventurous ways when they had studied them in school. But alas, they were extinct.

The roof was still on the empty side. The girl from Eleven was up there, glancing down at the city. Lyrah looked in the opposite direction, her head shooting up to watch the stars twinkle in the distance. Eleven didn't make a sound, but Lyrah could feel the girl's longing to jump. Lyrah had the same longing, she wanted to jump too, but she wanted to be up in the sky, floating with the stars and smiling brightly.

"Hello, I'm Lyrah from Six, in case you didn't know, you're from Eleven, right?" Lyrah asked.

"Acacia," she replied back in a small voice, as if scared to talk any louder for fear that someone might overhear. It was only the two of them though.

"That's pretty," Lyrah said.

"So is your name, reminds me of a pretty melody my momma used to sing to me." Acacia didn't look at Lyrah as she talked, instead, she continued to watch the Capitol go about its night.

The door opened. The big bang of it shutting brought Lyrah back down to the safety of the concrete ground. A bright smile lit up her face, causing her dimples to broaden. There was just something about him that made her smile.

He didn't say a word as he looked around the roof. He hadn't really said much at all. He was one of those quiet sorts. But that was just fine with Lyrah, as she liked to talk. About life, and love, and friends and family. Not necessarily about herself, but about anything and everything. Her mom claimed that Lyrah even talked in her sleep.

"I think you look mighty handsome holding that ax," Lyrah said from a few feet away, not wanting to scare him. She wasn't flirting with him, not really. Natalie was better at that stuff. Lyrah just liked talking.

"Err."

"Did the dogwood get your tongue?" Lyrah said with a grin. He just gave her a confused look, Lyrah sighed. She hated it when she had to explain her sense of humor. Then again, her jokes could be complicated and not so easy to get. Usually only Dally could follow her logic. "It's usually cat, but since you grew up in Seven among trees..." She trailed off, hoping he could figure out the rest from there. His confused face turned into a grimace. Yup, he had figured it out. Lyrah really needed to work on her comedy routine.

"Then why didn't you say cattail?" Acacia spoke up. Well not really, it was more of a speaking down. "That's a plant with the word cat in it."

"There's also catfish," Pontus boasted as he strode onto the roof. Lyrah grinned at him. Ever since he had sung _You are my sunshine_, and started a full out riot, she had taken a liking to him. Well, not the same sort of liking that she had taken towards someone else. But every girl needed a gay best friend. Gay guys were always a blast to be around.

"Oh good, you're here, I brought popcorn with me!" Lyrah joked.

"Really?" Pontus's face lit up in delight, only to be crushed when Lyrah said that she was just playing around. "It's not nice to joke about food Lyric."

"I thought your name was Lyrah?" Linden finally said.

Lyrah turned to face him, "Hey, you can say something other than err!"

"I like Lyric better, it's catchy," Pontus grabbed Lyrah and spun her around, she giggled. He was strong for being such a wimpy little career. "Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my darling Lyrical."

Lyrah groaned and shook her head.

"What?" I think it's cute."

"Yeah? Do you remember the way it ends? Not such a cute ending." Lyrah rolled her eyes, she was not going to end up like Clementine had in the song. "Nope, not going to happen to me."

"Is your sister cute?" Linden asked, causing everyone to turn and stare at him. "Err…" he reverted back to his catchphrase.

Lyrah sure as hell wasn't going to let her sister steal yet another thing from her.

**Roan Kingsbury, District 10**

Roan didn't feel like going up to the roof that night. Most of the other tributes were already getting on his nerves. Especially that gay kid from Four. Stupid thing. Besides, it was much easier to fondle a certain something on a girl when no one else was around.

Kendra sure was ready and willing. Which was weird, he hadn't taken her for that type of girl. But she was so easy to manipulate, all he had to say was "it was meant to be, the fates have spoken." She was so certain that the world spoke to her in signs, and everything that happened, happened for a reason. Which was how he found his hand roaming up her tender leg.

She moaned and Roan had to fight the feelings that were rising deep inside of him. Oh, to hell with it, why should he hold back? He shouldn't. He was a guy, he had needs. And dammit, he was going to fulfill them!

"See Kendra, your legs fit perfectly around my waist, it was meant to be," he urged her one. She giggled as he tickled her skin. So easy to manipulate this girl. Much better then that silly Cat. It had taken him months to get _her_ into his bed. Well, rather, her bed. Since he only allowed girls of the highest pedigree into _his_ bed. "It's like the last puzzle piece has finally been put into place."

Kendra sighed deeply. She was a novice at this. Roan usually hated beginners, they were clingy and never left him alone and always thought that it was true love. Like that annoying Bunny, he was so glad to finally be rid of her. She had been easy, too. Easy didn't always mean good though. No, far from it. Easy meant disaster. Roan liked the challenge. Much more fun. Which was why he still wanted Cat. Because it was a chase to get her. She wasn't so easy. And she had actually been a decent lay, for it being her first time and all. But she was also crazy. Just like all the cute guys were gay, all the good lays were crazy. It was like a requirement or something.

Just thinking about Cat made his head spin. He needed a drink, or a cigarette, preferably both. That usually cleared his head. In fact, he was starting to feel sober, and that wasn't good at all.

_Kiss her._ Yeah, he was definitely sober. That damn inner voice of his was back. He had a few of them. This one was just the annoying one. There was also a stupid one, a mean one, and a manipulative one. His favorite was the later one. But it was also the last to surface, and he would much rather block them all out by drinking and smoking and staying unsober. No, that wasn't a word, but Roan didn't give two shits.

So Roan kissed her salty lips. Tasted like the ocean, and they were rough like the bottom of the sea. Cat had silky soft lips, like the fur of a soft cat. _Then why aren't you kissing Cat? _The stupid voice said.

Roan really needed that drink. He hated the stupid one. But the mean one was next, and that voice was even worse.

"Kendra, go make me a sandwich," he said in a sultry voice, "bring me a beer while you're at it."

Kendra shot him a dirty look. Roan made his puppy dog face that no girl could resist, and said "please. The stars want you to make me a sandwich."

Kendra couldn't object to that, and five minutes later she was his savior. He popped the lid and gulped down as much as he could. "Ahhh, that's better." He could feel his head clearing up. No more voices.

"We should be in an alliance together," Kendra said as she snuggled up to him. Now that Roan had what he wanted, he didn't need her anymore. She was being clingy, and Roan felt the need to stop her advances while he still had a chance.

"I don't know about that Kelly. You're a Career, and I'm not."

Kendra gave him a disgusted look. "One, they've already told that girl from Eight that she was going to be part of the alliance, and two, my name is Kendra."

"Geeze Kendra, I'm sorry, I thought Kelly was more of an astronomical name."

She shot him a look, "apparently you know nothing about astronomy," she sniffed at him. Thankfully she untangled her from himself and stalked out.

"But I thought everything happens for a reason!" He called behind her back. Her retort was lost in the slamming of the door. Unfortunately, he knew she'd be back. After all, she was stage two clingy. Luckily once they got into the games, she'd be a goner. There was no way she'd last that long.

But he would. He wasn't going to let fate deal him his ending, he, and he alone, would decided when his life was over. He grabbed another beer, popped the tab and got comfortable on the couch. For just a moment he could pretend that he was back home getting wasted with the current chick that was lusting over him. Because he did not lust over them.

* * *

><p>Somehow Kendra has turned into a little slut. <em>Yeah, it's not MY fault, you're the one who wrote me that way! Isn't that why our mothersfathers fill out forms, so you can capture us correctly? _Well Kendra, I am the author so I have every right to portray you how I want to. Besides, I might plan to write the story one way, then when I go to write it, it turns out completely different. _Are you saying the story writes you? _Something like that. _And then you want our mothers/fathers to write a review praising you and telling you what a real good job your doing. _Well...yeah. _You're crazy. _Thanks Kendra. _You're welcome. _That was sarcasm.

*~Misty~*


	18. Sessions and Scores

This chapter is private sessions and scores with Flamiken. I've been very vague on what the tributes can do because I don't want to give it away. I want everyone to be surprised when the blood bath happens.

* * *

><p>Same shit, different day. Flamiken awoke to the screaming of that silly baby coming from down the hall. She really needed to kick them out. That child just didn't know how to <em>shut up!<em> Why did babies have to cry so much? Couldn't they just be born able to talk, that way the mother could just ask what was wrong. Ugh. Flamiken was never going to have children. The tributes in the games were enough. Twenty four different children every year that she had to deal with. That was plenty.

It was easier not to get to know them. Most of the time, she didn't bother to learn their names until the final eight had been cast. Nameless faces were easier to condemn to death. If she didn't know them on a personal level then it was easy to justify what she was doing. The Games had been created for a reason though, to keep the districts from rebelling. It was a very good reason. And she had a really fun job. Well, when Volouth wasn't leering at her and Wendetta wasn't talking and Easha wasn't being stupid. Sometimes she just wanted to throw her fellow gamemakers in the arena and see how they fared! Hmm, now _that_ would be fun to bet on.

It was the day of private sessions and Flamiken would have to sit in the room with the others and pretend to watch the tributes show off their talents. Maybe one of them would trip and give her a show. That boy from Six seemed to be a good candidate, with the broken foot and all.

After getting ready for the day she left the house without a single word to her tenants. She really needed to come up with a good reason to kick them out other then, "the baby won't shut up." On second thought, that seemed like a good enough reason to her. Flamiken somehow managed to make it into work on time with two minutes to spare. Even Volouth was shocked at her timely arrival.

"Aw Flamiken, you must have just been so darn excited to see me for the day that you even got here two minutes early."

"You're so full of yourself," Alidia teased as she swept into the room and took her usual seat between Flamiken and Wendetta. "You're early," she informed Flamiken. "You getting sick or something?"

Easha was the last to show. "Am I late?" She squealed as she saw Flamiken already there.

"Right on time," Flamiken replied and nodded at her. Easha blushed and took her seat at the end. "So private sessions are going to start soon. We're starting with the girl this year."

"So that would be Victory Clemmings," Alidia said as she slid out a paper with that name on it. A smiling face stared back. "She's pretty, and the daughter of a Victor."

"She's still hot," Volouth said, "I am _still_ glad I picked her."

The others ignored him as the door opened and Victory sauntered on in. "Hello," she said with a little curtsy, Flamiken was surprised Volouth hadn't jumped up and ran to grope her yet.

"This isn't a talent show," Flamiken muttered.

"Actually, it kinda is," Alidia pointed out. Flamiken glared at her, but Alidia took it in stride. Alidia never rose to the bait and lost her temper like the others were prone to do. Alidia was the calm one, the responsible one, the one that anyone could get along with.

Victory cleared her throat to demand attention and all eyes went back to the girl. She didn't thank them before she showed them what she could do, and the whole while, Flamiken took notes and ranked the girl from One.

She was followed by the boy from One. He looked strange with the streak of purple in his hair. "Zephyr Cage," Easha whispered, as they all pulled out the sheet with his name written on it. He was given the go ahead, and once again, Flamiken watched. Alidia and Wendetta seemed to be pleased at what he could do. Flamiken wasn't so impressed. The One's were the same old, same old. She wanted to see something new and refreshing, something that would make her jaw drop and her head spin.

It didn't happen with the girl from Two. Actually, Flamiken was able to see right past the goody-good persona that the girl put on. Flamiken was tired of posers, and Two's turn couldn't end fast enough. She was replaced by her fellow Two, a boy with a stony face that was difficult to read.

Flamiken glanced at the clock on the wall. It seemed broken, it had barely moved at all. Maybe she should invest in a watch. Now that she was Head, she could afford luxuries like that without having to sacrifice her clothing and high heels.

By the time the girl from Three entered, Flamiken was already craving a milkshake filled to the brim with strawberries and chocolate. Such a great combination. And maybe some fried pickles with a cucumber ranch sauce. Food was much better when it was fried.

Three seemed semi-smart. She'd be one to keep an eye out for. Volouth let out a sound that let them know he thought she was pleasing to the eye. Alidia was scribbling furiously as the girl showed them what she was made of.

The boy from Three didn't do much. But Flamiken knew it was an act. She knew he was just itching to show them what he was made of, but didn't want to get a high score to bring attention to himself. Flamiken was tempted to give him a high score anyway just to add some more umpf to the games. She'd broach it with the others when they argued about scores later on. Because would be arguing, that much was certain. Seven people were never able to agree on anything.

The last Career District was next. A dreamy looking girl walked in next. She seemed innocent and quiet. As if she wouldn't give them much action in the games. Flamiken made a note on her paper to give this one a low score. This child wouldn't be worth anyone's time or day.

"I still can't believe that one volunteered, she'll be gone early for sure," Volouth said with disappointment. "I mean, look at her, she's small. Short and not much muscle, not like some of the other Fours that we usually see. Although her thick lips look fun to kiss."

The girl made a sour face at him and they dismissed her before she could pout.

The boy from four was very flamboyant. And he seemed just as clueless as his counterpart. Especially for being the son of two victors.

"Two Careers with a low score?" Flamiken shook her head in amazement as the boy finally left, allowing the rest of the Gamemakers to erupt in laughter.

"Well that was…" Alidia broke off, looking for the perfect word to describe the boy who was no longer there to defend himself.

"Interesting," Wendetta squealed. The door creaked as it opened and they all whirled to see the girl from five walk in, looking scared and small, as if she just wanted the floor to open up and swallow her whole. Well, there was always chance of a freak earthquake. Rare, but sometimes they came out of nowhere when it was least expected.

She was the first bloodbath victim. Flamiken was usually able to spot them from miles away. Every year there were between seven and nine tributes who would die at the cornucopia. They were known as the blood bath tributes. And every year the Gamemakers would take bets on the tributes that they thought would die in the bloody battle.

The girl from Five was scribbled down. The boy from Five was added to that list only a few moments later. Neither of their names would be remembered, and Flamiken didn't even bother to glance down at the papers with their names. It didn't matter.

It was time for District 6. The girl strode in first, trying to hide her wobbling knees. She managed to give them a huge smile and then the girl did something to surprise them all.

Flamiken's jaw dropped, now that was what she had been waiting for!

The boy would never be able to follow his partner's act. He couldn't even try to hide _his_ wobbling knees he was walking very awkwardly with his crutches. Although, he did manage to use them as crude weapons. Well, he wouldn't be allowed into the arena with them. It would give him an unfair advantage. Which she just could not allow, though Flamiken was impressed by the fight in his eyes.

They were halfway through. Flamiken called for a break. Seeing twelve children waltz in and show them what they could and couldn't do was very tiring and there were still twelve more to go, and they were almost always the least talented of the bunch.

"Well," Volouth said, still in shock by that Six girl. "That was…well, I didn't expect that."

"No one did," Alidia agreed, "but she _is_ from Six, you would think that sooner or later a tribute from that District would be able to do _that."_

"But not like that." Flamiken agreed, "and did you see the power behind Two's punch, he's strong."

"Well, he is the son of Roman," Alidia pointed out. "You remember his games? There were some amazing moves he had. If Castiel is half as good as his father, then he might be able to win it all."

It took Flamiken a few seconds to realize that Castiel was the name of the boy from Two. Oh, the names parents gave to their kids in the Districts! At least her name had meaning! One just needed to take a single look to know why she had been named Flamiken. She had been born with a full head of flaming red hair.

After they had a chance to get up, stretch their legs, and relax their brains, the Gamemakers got ready for the next set of twelve tributes. The girl from Seven was the first to walk through the doors.

Another child of a Victor. This one knew what she was doing. Flamiken was pleased by her talent. Her mother had taught her well. But it also seemed as if she was holding back so she wouldn't get the best of scores. Flamiken made a note of that.

The boy from Seven was a quiet sort, and he didn't make eye contact with them as he walked into the room. Flamiken wasn't as impressed. She started counting the tiles on the ceiling and wondered how many holes were in each one.

A fly buzzed into the room as the girl from Eight entered. There was something strange about that girl. Flamiken couldn't take her eyes off of the fly though, she wondered how he liked his freedom, what he thought about as he flew through the air, buzzing to find a way out. Did the fly know that he was trapped? Is that how the Eight girl felt as she left the room, allowing the boy to enter?

Flamiken abandoned those thoughts and tried to focus on the boy. Her stomach rumbled. The watch on Alidia's wrist showed that it was past snack time. Flamiken hated missing a single meal.

Before she knew it, the girl from Nine had wandered in and out and the boy from Nine was spewing out a bunch of math questions. At least, that was what Flamiken thought it was.

"Is this really what he wants to show us?" Alidia whispered, "or is he just trying to gather his thoughts before he does anything of real use?"

Luckily it was just him trying to compose himself, because Flamiken didn't think she'd be able to listen to him for his whole time limit.

Each second that went by seemed to take more time then the next.

Ten was next. Her torture was almost over. The girl, who had Volouth's full attention, wasn't very entertaining. Flamiken tried to find the fly, but it was nowhere to be seen. It must have escaped during the many times when the door had been opened to let the tributes either in or out. There was always a way to escape.

The boy somehow managed to capture Flamiken's attention. He was ruggedly handsome.

"You aren't supposed to have a crush on the tributes," Volouth whispered in her ear.

"Says the guy always drooling over the girls," Flamiken shot back.

"Technicalities."

Eleven was second to last. Flamiken was rapidly losing interest by now. Her stomach was grumbling constantly, and Easha was letting out soft snores. The girl, being from Eleven, was a good climber and sped around the obstacle course.

The boy was nothing special, and was added to Flamiken's blood bath list as were both of the tributes from twelve.

It was finally over. The longest day in history had ended, and Flamiken had survived the agony of watching twenty four different children run around the room and boast that they were the best out of the group.

"Well, let's get these scores figured out," Flamiken sighed. The day wasn't over yet. She had forgotten about this part.

They started with One. Both tributes had shown that they were Career material. They decided to give them both Nines. The Twos, also very good, received a ten for the boy and a nine for the girl.

It was difficult to come to a conclusion for the Threes. While the girl had shown a bit of promise, the boy had shown none.

"It was an act, I swear that kid has something up his sleeve." Flamiken rustled through the stack of papers and found the one with "Boy From Three," scribbled on the top. "I think we should give him a high score just to see how he reacts."

In the end the boy got a four and the girl a five. The irony of that was not lost on them.

Four was the last Career District, even though neither of them had shown much promise. They argued about their scores for a while.

"But they are Careers, they deserve high scores," Easha said, as if that was important. The others broke out in protest.

"They don't. They need to earn their score," Alidia argued fairly. She had been the one to argue against giving the Three boy a high score.

Four ended up both getting sevens, which Flamiken felt was a bit generous. Six, or even five would have described them better. Everyone was in agreement that the pair from Fives were both bloodbaths. They were both given twos.

Given the show that the girl from Six had put on, her score of six was well deserved. Her fellow Six was given a four, even though he had shown promise with his weapon of a crutch, he wouldn't have that weapon in the arena.

They put a lot of thought into the scores for the Sevens. The girl was given a seven and the boy a five. The girls were doing well this year. The Eights both got fives. The girl from Nine got a three, as she was thought to be a bloodbath and the boy a five.

"I think she's hot and should get an eight just because of that," Volouth said about the girl from Ten. "I mean look at her, she's wild looking, like a feral animal!"

Flamiken rolled her eyes. They settled on a five for her. The boy, who had shown promise, took home the eight that Volouth wanted to give to his partner. The boy from Eleven didn't fare as well, and received a two. The girl managed to scrape a five. Then the last two were the ones from Twelve and they were given a three and a two. Flamiken couldn't remember which one got what.

All she knew was that her day was _finally _over. Private sessions were over, and scores had been determined. She could finally get a night of sleep before having to go back to work. Because once the Games began, she'd be sleeping AT work, and wouldn't have a chance to go back home until the winner had been crowned.

"Well," she murmured to herself as she walked into her house and was welcomed by the screaming baby, "at least I get a week or so break from the brat."

* * *

><p>That night, the scores flashed brightly on the big screen. Eyes everywhere were glued to the numbers that would show the fate of twenty four children.<p>

**District 1**:  
>Victory Clemmings 9<br>Zephyer Cage 9

**District 2**:  
>Talluah Neirth 9<br>Castiel De la Vega 10

**District 3**:  
>Fiver Flynn 5<br>Cord McCauley 4

**District 4**:  
>Kendra Riva 7<br>Pontus Thetis 7

**District 5**:  
>Illana Pace 2<br>Neo Metal 2

**District 6**:  
>Lyrah Henley 6<br>Albacore Lockheart 4

**District 7**:  
>Joliet Richemont 7<br>Linden Faith 5

**District 8**:  
>Hannah Matthews 4<br>Charles Aviston 4

**District 9**:  
>Charisma Borderly 3<br>Arien Sledge 5

**District 10**:  
>Chameleon Bangladesh 5<br>Roan Kingsbury 8

**District 11:  
><strong>Acacia Flylone 5  
>Leaf Racore 2<p>

**District 12**:  
>Dusty Dizzer 3<br>Myne Coalen 2

It was the usual set of numbers, with the Careers having scores of 7 and above. Six children with scores under 4 to make up the bloodbath, and the rest had numbers scattered around. As soon as the last 2 faded away, bets were made. Who are you betting for?

* * *

><p>I'm thinking about having another guest chapter, but it won't be the blood bath chapter, because I have way to many things planned. Like revealing what the arena is, and explaining what the colors mean, actually the arena and the colors are connected. The blood bath is going to be chapter 23, so we are getting close. I swear.<p>

Today's question is: who is your favorite gamemaker? Mine is Flamiken, obviously. And Volouth. I know they don't even end up together, but I still ship them together. Flamouth? Or Voliken?

So please review, and maybe you'll get another chapter! **You say that at the end of every chapter**_. _Glad to see you've been paying attention. **You have no idea who this is, do you?** No guesses whatsoever. **You're lossing your touch**. I AM not! ** Are too! **I'm not having this argument over fanfiction. **Uh, yes you are**_. _This is Sarah, isn't it? **Wouldn't you like to know!** Get out of my head! **Gladly**_._ That was not permission to take over my body.** Wasn't it though?**

*~Misty~*


	19. Questions and Answers

Oh look, a chapter! Oh look, the longest chapter EVER in the Just series. Seriously, it is, although, not by much. There was a very long guest chapter in Freedom. It's interview time. The interviews of all the important tributes are here, so buckle down and let your eyes feast on the screen!

* * *

><p><strong>Tallulah Neirth, District 2<strong>

Her prep team was fussing over her hair, trying to make her look innocent and gorgeous and naïve all at the same time. Her stylist was making remarks as he paced the floor, nervous about the events that were to take place that night, knowing that Tallulah would have the spotlight with all eyes on her, judging how she looked like. It was a big night for everyone. Her mentor was busy yapping, trying to let her know that her image, what she was portraying, was very important to get sponsors. Tallulah wasn't paying attention to any of them. They didn't matter.

"Remember Tallulah, sit up straight, shoulders back," her escort said, as she fussed over Tallulah's posture for the millionth time. Tallulah just gave her a smile.

"It's time," a harried looking man stuck his head in and then hurried off to the next room.

Tallulah sighed deeply as the grownups in her room began to freak out. She shook her head in disappointment. Sometimes grownups were so immature. They weren't even the ones that had to go to the interview. She was, and she wasn't freaking out! She knew that she had the interview in the bag. There was no way that anyone would hate her.

Tallulah was led out of the room and to the edge of the stage where the other tributes were, small spaces between each District to keep the tributes from talking to one another. Like Tallulah was going to in the first place! Most of them were beneath her.

Their interviewer, Camilla, was a tall lady with billowing hair and long legs. There were catcalls for her as she got up on stage.

"Hello, Panem, and welcome to the Thirty-Third Games!" The crowd erupted in applause and whistles. Camilla smiled at them good-naturedly. The camera loved her, and she was a very popular among the men. Tallulah didn't see the big deal. She was so much better looking than Camilla. "How is everyone today?"

Tallulah tuned out the rest of the opening ceremony, but tuned back in when Tory walked up to the stage. After all, these interviews were important. The girl up on stage may be part of the alliance, but she was Tallulah's enemy, plain and simple. And Tallulah wasn't going to let that pretty little girl beat her. No, Tallulah was going to win fair and square. Well, maybe not fair…that word wasn't in her vocabulary.

"Good evening, Victory. You go by Tory though, don't you?" Camilla stared out at the audience as she talked to Tory. "Victory is a big name to live up to."

"It'll be easy," Tory said, her soprano voice flitted around the arena. "After all, it's in my blood."

"That's right, you are one of our many tributes this year to have a parent as a victor, your mother must be proud that you're following in her footsteps."

"I'm only following if I win, which I plan on." Tory looked straight out at the cameras. "After all, I promised someone special that I would come home."

Tallulah rolled her eyes. She hated it when tributes said something along those lines, like 'I'm going to win for so and so.' No, Tallulah was going to win this for herself, no one else. She was the only one that mattered.

Tory's turn ended, and the audience seemed very disappointed, Tory had made a good first impression. But as she was first, she would be the first to be forgotten. There were still 23 to go after her.

"Well hello, Zephyer," Camilla grinned at him, leaning forward to tug on a strand of his hair that was still purple. He grimaced at her.

"It's my mom's fault," Zep explained before she even asked the question.

"I'm not sure if purple's really your color," Camilla hedged, trying not to offend him. Zep's expression clearly stated that he didn't think it was his color either. "Purple and black is a nice combination though, reminds me of a raven."

Tallulah snorted. That had been a mutation that had gone wrong. For some dumb reason, the scientists decided that they wanted a purple raven. There was no explanation on why. But the project had gone awry, and now ravens were both colors and their poop was purple.

"So, Zephyer, tell me why you volunteered."

"My sister Cotton was in the Games, and it's my chance to bring honor back to the family." The audience awed. Tallulah pretended to vomit. She watched him leave the stage before she realized that it was now her turn to be in the limelight. She took a deep breath, in and out, before striding gracefully onto the stage. It was time to show the audience who she was. Just an innocent, sweet teenager. Ha.

"Hello Tallulah, you sure look mighty pretty tonight," Camilla gushed. How could people not see right through Camilla's act? Camilla didn't give a shit about the tributes. Tallulah smiled back through clenched teeth. Well, two could play this game. And Tallulah played it so well to begin with. This was going to be simple.

"Why thank you, silky white really is my color," Tallulah gushed back with a genuine smile. Her heart beat evenly in her chest. This was the easiest thing she had ever done. Bantering back and forth with Camilla about her life was a piece of cake.

"What do you want from life Tallulah?" Camilla finally said. Was it just Tallulah, or was there a spark of an evil glint behind Camilla's silver eyes?

"What everyone wants, I suppose. I want to be married, and rich, and yes, definitely rich."

"Doesn't everyone wish that?" Camilla said, the audience chuckled, but Camilla seemed to be a bit disappointed by Tallulah's answer.

"Well, who wouldn't want to be rich? Money is important, it buys food and clothes and shoes, lots and lots of shoes."

"Would you marry a poor man you loved or a rich man you hated?" Camilla asked, stopping Tallulah in her tracks. Tallulah's mind whirled as she tried to come up with the perfect response. Camilla was trying her darn hardest to show Panem who Tallulah really was, and Tallulah wasn't ready for that yet. She had spent her whole life covering who she really was, and wasn't going to let Camilla ruin it for her now.

The buzzer went off before Tallulah could answer. Camilla stared her down, "I'm still waiting for an answer."

"I'd marry the poor man I loved, and together we would work our hardest to make the most out of life and get the money that we deserve," Tallulah finally said as she curtsied and walked daintily off the stage. The audience awed, a few even stood up to clap.

"Nice save," Castiel whispered in her ear before taking a spot on the stage with Camilla.

"Ah, Roman's son," Camilla seemed positively happy to have Roman's son on stage with her. Tallulah snorted. That bitch from Three rolled her eyes and Tallulah turned her snort into a sneeze.

"I'm no one's son," Castiel said in that deep gruff voice of his. Tallulah actually found it quite sexy. Too bad they were both in the games, cause being the son of a victor, Castiel was sure to be rich. Then again, he had just renounced his father on live television. Castiel had probably just been cut off from the inheritance. Idiot, didn't he know that you shouldn't piss off the person with the money? That you should just pretend to like that person 'til he dies? To get ahead in life, Tallulah learned that she had to please other people, that she had to pretend to be nice, or she didn't get what she wanted.

"Good luck in the Games," Camilla said. Castiel's buzzer had just gone off. Tallulah had missed it while she was lost in her own thoughts. Darnit.

The bitch from three snaked up to stage. Tallulah did not like that girl one bit.  
>"Fiver, that's an unusual name," Camilla remarked. Fiver shrugged.<p>

"For some reason, my parents weren't in a creative mood with me. But in a way, I kinda lucked out, you should hear my siblings names." She began to tick them off on her fingers. Tallulah was bored already.

"I mean really, who names a child Ottolie? Sounds like an animal."

"I'd do her!" A voice shouted from the tribute section of the stands. Tallulah looked over to see Roan standing there. His partner looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. "What?" now if Castiel's voice was sexy, then Roan had a voice worthy of the Gods. "I like animals." The audience chuckled. Back on stage, Fiver was glaring, angry at Roan for interrupting her. Tallulah could already see the gears turning in Fiver's head. Fiver was going to interrupt Roan's interview, and Tallulah couldn't wait.

"Do you know what happens to lame horses?" Fiver asked Camilla, even though it was directed at Roan. "They're put down."

The audience was confused. Tallulah rolled her eyes. Capitolites were a bunch of idiots. Roan was a type of horse. Roan actually seemed impressed by Fiver's insult.

The rest of her interview went by quickly and it was soon Cord's turn. Tallulah was already bored with this. Cord wasn't interesting at all. Going on about his best friend, who just so happened to be one of Fiver's numerous brothers.

"Well Cord, good luck in the arena," Camilla said, finishing up his few moments of fame. Cord shook her hand.

"Actually, you should be wishing the others good luck."

"Oh, do you have anything planned?" Camilla asked with interest. Cord just walked off the stage without another word.

"You idiot." Tallulah heard Fiver whisper to Cord, "You just marked us as targets."

"Everyone's a target," he whispered back. Tallulah missed Fiver's retort since the audience was welcoming Kendra to the stage, but it had probably been a good one.

Kendra went on and on about how things happened for a reason, and she believed that Keitha had been reaped for Kendra to volunteer.

"I met Roan here, he's awesome, and I never would have met him if I hadn't volunteered, and I wouldn't of volunteered if Keitha hadn't been reaped."

"But Kendra isn't an animal's name," Tallulah heard Fiver whisper. Tallulah let her chuckle turn into a cough this time around. Fiver was actually very funny. It was a change of pace from the uptight Careers.

"So you believe in astrology, then," Camilla said as she pointed up at the stars for the stupid people in Panem who didn't know what astrology was. Kendra nodded with a dreamy look on her face.

Tallulah was glad when Kendra's turn was over and Pontus took over. Kendra had one of those annoying voices that made you want to claw your ears out.

Pontus was all over the place. He kissed Camilla on both of her cheeks, causing a red spot to cover them.

"Well Pontus, you're too kind," Camilla gushed, "no normal guy would ever make that gesture."

"I'm not normal, if you know what I mean," Pontus winked at her. It took several moments for the audience to get what he meant. Half of them applauded his bravery, the other half erupted in an angry buzz as they realized that one of the tributes was gay.

"Well Pontus, are you coming out of the closet?" She laughed and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. Tallulah was already fed up with Camilla's act. It was so annoying.

"No, I'm coming out of the audience," Pontus joked. Half of the audience laughed while the other half teetered nervously. "There are some cute guys out there."

"Well aren't you a charmer."

And he was. He spent the rest of his interview joking and laughing and singing, of course. Tallaluh wished she had her earplugs.

The District Five interviews were pointless and she was so busy tuning them out she almost missed all of the District Six interview of the girl. But it probably hadn't been all that important. After all, Sixes might be smart, but book smart was different then street smart. And Lyrah Henley sure as hell wasn't street smart.

Tallulah leaned back in her chair and tilted her face up to the starts, trying to see what the big deal was and why Kendra was always carrying on about them. But they just looked like a dull night light in the sky with no real meaning. But that was life.

**Linden Faith, District 7**

Linden had waited patiently while the other tributes had their interviews. He was good at that since his sisters had prepared him, unknowingly of course, in the art of being patient.

At the moment, it was District Six's turn. Which meant that his District was next, and his palms had been sweating all night. He was not looking forward to getting up on that big stage and answering Camilla's torturous questions. Couldn't he opt out of the interview?

A few years ago there had been an interview with a girl who clearly had a bad case of stage fright, and she didn't even make it to the stage before she got so scared that she passed out. She had woken up the next day in the arena, and just barely managed to escape a weapon coming at her face. She died eventually, but for a while, she was a strong competitor who just hated being in the limelight. Strange how some kids had one fear and others had a completely different one.

Lyrah was up on the stage at the moment, talking animatedly with Camilla. Lyrah had one of those magnetic personalities that drew others to her. She wasn't overly nice or overbearing. She seemed to know exactly what others wanted to hear. Motherly. That was a good word to describe her. She wasn't so bad looking, either. Not as gorgeous as Chameleon from Eight or Victory from One, but she had some things going for her.

He didn't know why he was thinking these thoughts about her. Probably just to help him get his mind off of having to get up onto stage and talking in front of a bunch of people whose names he didn't even know.

Soon Lyrah's turn was over and she gave a slight wave and a wide smile as she took her seat offstage in the District 6 box. Albacore, that guy with a tuna name clumsily made it up to the stage. Camilla helped him get comfortable.

"How did that happen?" Camilla asked as she took out a giant black marker and signed her name on his cast with a flourish. It was the only name on there. "A token to remember me by," she explained to him.

My uncle." Albacore winced just thinking about it. "He's not a very pleasant person."

"Doesn't seem like it," Camilla agreed. "But he seemed to have done a good job at raising you."  
>"Oh, you're absolutely right," Albacore said dryly, "such a great job that I had to volunteer to go into the Games so I can win and get my sister and my cousins out of the house before my uncle goes into a drunken rage and kills them. Yup, he's a stellar guy."<p>

The audience murmured their sympathies but Albacore almost shrugged them off, as if he didn't need their pity.

"What are your plans for the arena? Will you be able to walk?"

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."

"So in other words, you don't have a plan?"

"Well, not one that I want to give away. But I just want my little sister, May, to know that it will be okay, and I'm coming home to rescue her."

"Awe, that is so sweet, your sister is very lucky to have such a good brother looking after her. Good luck."

It was getting closer and closer to Linden's turn. Jo walked confidently up to the stage and took a seat. She looked composed and ready to go. Now why couldn't Linden be more like that?

Jo, you're the daughter of Roma, one of the first woman victors, how does that make you feel?"  
>"My mother was able to do it, I'm part of her, I have her DNA, her blood runs in my veins. It makes me feel capable of winning."<p>

"Strong words from a strong, capable woman," Camilla seemed very impressed by Jo, as if she thought Linden's District partner could win the whole thing. Actually, Linden thought that too. Jo was very well-assured and well-composed and it seemed like there was nothing that girl couldn't do. He wanted an alliance with her, because he knew he'd be safer with her then by himself. But she didn't seem to want any help. He still had a few hours left to convince her.

Before he knew it, Jo was sitting down next to him. She gave him a look. "It's your turn," she whispered at him, gently nudging him up to his feet. Linden swallowed, his palms were wet and sweaty, and he just wanted to run in the opposite direction. He didn't want to go up to the stage. It wasn't something he was comfortable with, and he hated being outside of his comfort zone. Jo game him an encouraging smile, and he took a deep breath. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Lyrah mouthing something at him. After another steadying breath, he managed to stumble to stage.

"Linden, right? Does that name mean anything special?" Camilla's tone was gentle, but prying at the same time, and he really didn't appreciate the question.

"It's a tree," Linden tried to keep his voice steady, but it still sounded a tad squeaky to him. He caught Jo's eyes in the audience and she gave him a reassuring smile. Why was anyone going to be willing to sponsor him if he couldn't even speak in an even tone, especially after following Jo? No one was going to remember him. He swallowed and realized that Camilla had asked him another question. "Er, can you repeat that please."

"You are such a polite kid, it's a shame that so many young ones are rude nowadays. I like you, you know your manners."

He managed a grin. "I was raised right."

"Yes you are, more parents need to be more like yours."

Linden nodded, not really wanting to start talking about his family. Not with his sick mother and no cure for her disease in sight. And even if there was a cure, they had no money.

"What's your family like?" Camilla asked, not noticing his discomfort. Maybe she did notice, but she just didn't care.

"There's my mom, she's sick though, both my real dad and my stepdad are dead. So it's mom, and us kids. My older brother Rowan is married with a kid on the way, and then I have two kid sisters." He realized that once he got started talking, it got easier to just go with it.

"Tell me about your sisters, are they as annoying as mine?" Camilla asked, looking out at the audience and waving at two women who were probably her younger sisters.

"Alona and Ebony, that's their names. Alona's at the age where she thinks everyone hates her and is out to get her. She hates it when she's hugged, and is starting to rebel against the rules that are there to keep her safe. Ebony's still young enough to have an imagination, and isn't embarrassed when she's seen with her family like Alona is." Linden realized too late that if he lived through this and made it home, Alona was going to kill him for what he said.

It sounds like a fun place to grow up, though."

Linden agreed. He might have had some sad moments in his childhood, but he had a loving family and they always tried to make sure he had what he needed. If he died, he'd be one less mouth to feed, but also one less pair of hands around to help out. They needed him as much as he needed them.

Camilla wished him good luck and he released his spot on stage to Hannah from District 8. It was over. His turn on stage was complete, and he felt exhausted, he was ready to just pass out and go to sleep. It didn't matter what the others said now. And he tuned out as Hannah talked about her family and her dreams, and what she wanted from life.

She seemed like a nice girl, one who wanted a life after the Games, but she also seemed scared and reserved. There was something not quite right about her that he couldn't put his finger on.  
>"What have you liked most about the Capitol?" Camilla asked Hannah. She got quiet for a moment as she contemplated the question.<p>

"The bright lights," Hannah replied. "It's really dark in Eight, and I like the brightness here. It seems happy and fun." She got quiet again and her brow seemed to furrow.  
>"If you win, you'll be able to come here all the time," Camilla asked.<p>

"If I win?" Hannah's voice took on a hardness to it that seemed out of character for her. "I plan to win." She seemed to realize her outburst and gave an apologetic look.

"Best of luck to you Hannah," Camilla finally said once the buzzer went off.

Hannah seemed very upset as she left the stage. There really was something strange about her, like she wasn't stable or something. And it was the psychotic tributes that one had to watch out for. He made a note to stay far away from her. She seemed like one of those that started out as a nice girl, then one wrong move, and she would snap and go into crazy mode.

It seemed like all Chuck could talk about was his girl back home, whom he was very adamant that she was NOT his girlfriend.

"She gave me this before I left," Chuck reached down and pulled out his necklace that he was always staring at. "It's an hourglass, and it's supposed to be counting down until her death."

"Well, that's very smart of her, but how on Panem does that even work?" Camilla asked as she leaned forward to take a closer look at it.

Chuck shrugged, "I don't know, but Thalia is a smart one, she knows what she's doing."  
>"I hope you make it back to her." Camilla said. Linden realized that all of her parting words were around the same. They couldn't all win.<p>

The girl from Nine was uneventful and her partner could only talk about math problems. Seriously, he was showing Camilla how to solve an impossible problem.

"If it's impossible though, how can I solve it?" Camilla asked him. "And you're from Nine, you aren't supposed to be smart."

"Anything's possible to solve if you think about it," Arien informed her, "and just because I'm from a District that doesn't turn out smart kids doesn't mean anything. The odds of all the smart kids being born in Five and Six are high, and very slim in Nine, but there is still that slight chance of getting a genius."

"Do you see yourself as a genius?"

"Anything's possible."

The audience clapped at his comeback, and Camilla was stunned into silence. She managed to wish him luck as he left and the girl from Ten headed up to be grilled.

She seemed nervous and anxious, and she looked very upset at having to sit in a chair where the other tributes had been.

"Go ahead and take a seat, Chameleon, it won't bite you," Camilla reassured her. Chameleon didn't seem so certain about that, though. She stood the whole time, making Camilla look small and awkward, but she didn't let that bother her. "Do you have a nick-name, Cameleon."

"Ca-Cham, it's Cham," she said, stuttering a little bit. She had been stuttering a lot lately. As if she was changing her mind about what she wanted to say.

"Well, Cham it is then, you don't seem to like Roan very much, now do you?"

Cham snorted, "Not in the least bit."

"There's a reason behind that. I'm sensing a story. Does it have anything to do with his earlier declaration of liking animals."

Cham got real quiet and refused to comment further.

"Well, I think he's quite a charmer. You two seem like you'd be a good fit for each other," Camilla pushed.

"He's a jerk," Cham replied, glaring up at the guy she was currently bashing. He grinned back at her. Linden had never felt that comfortable around girls, but seeing the two of them, made him miss his girlfriend even more, even though he had basically told Marla that they were through. He was regretting that. And he wished he had the courage to get back on stage with Camilla and shout it out for everyone to witness.

The "jerk," Roan, was the next one to go up on stage. Camilla seemed extremely pleased to finally have him up with her. She was all ready to sink her claws into him. Seriously, she looked ready to eat him alive.

"You've been getting quite a beating tonight, and it's only ten seconds into your interview," Camilla joked.

"It's alright Camilla, I can take it," he joked back, flexing his arm muscles and causing Camilla to give him a to-die for smile. Marla had never looked at Linden like that.

"So Roan, with all these girls vying for your attention, do you have a girlfriend back home?"

All the girls leaned forward to hear the answer, especially Kendra. Linden sighed. Seriously, how did this guy do that? How did he get girls to fawn over him? Linden was almost sure that Marla had already moved on. Then again, he had been pretty clear with her on that fact that she _should _move on. But when did Marla ever listen to him? She was a very independent girl.

"Not really, you see, I'm not really the type of have just _one_ girlfriend."

The guys in the audience started clapping, some of the ladies began to glare at him, while the other half swooned. Linden rolled his eyes as it dawned on him that Roan was a disgusting player who didn't give a shit about the girl, just the fact that he was getting some action.

"Well, if you need another, I'm available," Camilla batted her eyelashes. Roan leaned forward, grabbed her shoulders and pulled her close. Camilla's eyes closed as Roan kissed her for all of Panem to see. "You can do that again," Camilla breathed as he pulled away.

"Ew, get a room!" The girl from Three, Fiver, shouted from her seat, she looked disgusted, but also proud of herself for finding an opening to interrupt Roan's interview. "Why anyone would want to kiss _you_ is beyond me."

"Oh shut up Sixer."

"It's Fiver. you jerk!" She shouted back, the boy next to her tried to pull her back from the edge. It took a moment to calm her down, but eventually Fiver sat back down with a composed face. But the damage was done, and Fiver had created an enemy for herself.

Acacia, the girl from Eleven, was a quiet sort, but she had tons to say. Her answers were long winded but spoken softly so the audience kept leaning forward to catch what she said. Camilla had to keep asking her to repeat herself.

"You are very skinny, Acacia. Do you not like food?"

"Oh, I adore food, it's just, I have a younger sister and a father, and I'd rather that they get the food. They need more nourishment then I do. There's not a lot of money to eat like Kings in Queens in Eleven. We do the best that we can do. I'm the best olive picker around, and I can scale those trees like nobody's business."

Linden wondered if she even stopped to breath during that answer. It didn't seem like she did.

"Well, I'm sure you got lots to eat while you were here, then. Did you have a favorite dish?"

"Oh, did I ever!" Acacia exclaimed, for once her voice was loud enough for those in the back of the audience to hear. "The honey glazed hen with a honey mustard reduction sauce, wine caramelized onions and some sort of turnip was probably the best thing I've ever had. I could eat that for every meal and not get bored of it."

"That is a good meal, my younger sister is a chef, and that's her specialty. She'll have to make it for you one time.'

Acacia left the stage with a gigantic smile on her face. Eleven Districts had given their interviews, there was only one left, District 12, with their girl and boy tribute. Linden wasn't very impressed with them either, and unfortunately classified them as bloodbaths. Well, it had to be someone.

Tomorrow would be the Games. Linden had hoped the past few days would go by slowly, but when did time ever listen to him?

* * *

><p>Now that we know the tributes pretty well, who is your favorite? Who do you want to win? Who do you want to die first? Two more chapters til the famous countdown chapter, so death is going to happen pretty soon. Sad.<p>

Oh, and it was JUST brought to my attention that the Just series has a tv tropes! Which I had no idea about, but that's amazing! _That's cause you're oblivious to everything. _I am not Linden. I am very observant. _*snorts* Yeah, right, okay, if you say so, you don't even know who made it. _No, I don't, but I have a pretty good idea on who it was. _Pretty good idea? Oh, this I want to hear. _Yeah, I'm 99 percent sure that I know who it was. And so a huge thanks to that person, and to all my other readers, especially the ones who review. _That was a major hint if I ever saw one. _Oh hush you.

http :/ tvtropes. org/pmwiki/pmwiki. php/Main/TheJustSeries. You know the deal, remove the spaces, fanfiction doesn't like websites/email addresses unless you trick them by putting in spaces.

Oh, and to Karen, who's been reviewing, I am getting your reviews. Thank you, they're sweet!

And I think that's it for my very long authors note.

*~Misty~*


	20. Feasts and Bets

**Acacia Flylone, District 11**

The interviews had ended, but the parties were just beginning. Acacia had never really been to a huge party. They weren't allowed in Eleven. The Peacekeepers were pretty stern back in her District. She had seen terrible things happen to those who disobeyed. Once or twice, she had gone to a friend's house for a get together. But it was never anything extensive, no loud music or chips and dip. No big screen television. Just a few girls sitting around in a circle, playing stupid games to pass the time.

Whenever she watched the Games, she saw the big stuff, the things that everyone else saw. The chariot rides, the scores, the interviews, and then the Game itself. She never got to see the little stuff, the things that happened behind the scenes. The training, the private sessions. The interactions between the tributes at night.

So she thought that after the interviews, she'd be able to go back to her room and try to figure out what she was going to do tomorrow when the gong rang. But they were ushered into a room with a long oak table and chairs. She was certain that if she counted them, there would be twenty four. Just enough for each tribute to have one. She didn't like the looks of the room. Sure, it was absolutely gorgeous, but it had an eerie feeling about it.

"Good Evening, Tributes. Welcome to the first annual feast. My name is Volouth. I am one of the Gamemakers, and I will be your host this evening."

Acacia grumbled with the rest. None of them seemed particularly pleased about that announcement except for Roan, who kept glancing at some of the girls. Acacia really wished she would have a chance to stomp on his foot. He deserved a good foot stomping.

"Just don't walk behind him, he might kick you," the girl from Three- Acacia thought her name was a number- said, "that's what horses do if you don't slap their rumps to let them know you're behind them." It was as if number girl could hear her thoughts. Acacia found that a tad creepy.

"We have decided to try this out and see how it works. It's a feast of sorts, and you are all guests." Volouth said, Acacia remembered him from her private session. He was the one who looked like a twisted pervert. He kept staring at the girls with a hunger in his eyes. He'd probably get along well with Roan. "Take a seat anywhere, and your food will be out shortly."

He watched, very amused, as they scattered about, looking for a seat next to someone who seemed nice enough. Acaica found herself near one end of the table, sitting next to the boy from Nine and the girl from Six.

"Lyrah," she said politely, before Acacia even had to ask. "And you're Acacia from Eleven, right?" But Lyrah wasn't looking for affirmation. "And Arien is next to you, then Charisma," Lyrah began naming all the tributes, which Acacia actually found very helpful. Even though she had been with everyone for a few days, she still got most of them mixed up.

"Showoff," one of the Careers, who Lyrah had named Tallulah, scoffed. Lyrah shrugged her shoulders.

Twelve Avoxes- or was the plural "Avoxi"- came in, each balancing a plate with a bowl on top in either hand. They spaced out between the tributes, and the plates were set in front of the tributes in unison.

"Your first course is a gazpacho soup with lump crab meat and mango salsa," the Gamemaker said, looking Acacia straight in the eye. He gave her a wink before leaving the room again and letting the tributes pick up their spoons.

Acacia lifted the spoon to her mouth and blew so she wouldn't burn her tongue.

"It's gazpacho," Lyrah informed her, she took a gulp, not bothering to blow. Acacia raised her left eyebrow. "Gazpacho is a cold soup. It won't be hot."

Sure enough, it was chilled and felt good in her throat. This was unlike anything she had ever had before, and she liked it. She just wished that she could share it with her family. Her little sister would adore this, and maybe her father would actually eat it. She really wished that she had money at home and ingredients to cook with instead of hard, gross olives.

The only noise in the room was that of spoons hitting the bowls, and it didn't take long for the ravenous tributes to finish their portions. The Avoxes came back in to clear the plates for the next course. Acacia was really looking forward to that. Knowing the type of food that she had had so far in the Capitol, she knew it was going to be great. Too bad she'd be starving again once she hit the arena. She was liking this whole "full belly" feeling.

"That was good. Could have used a bit more pepper," Lyrah chirped. Acacia had never really tasted food with seasoning. She grew up with bland stuff. No pepper, hardly any salt, so it had tasted just fine to her.

"That's why there are salt and pepper shakers on the table," Tory pointed out from the other end. Lyrah didn't seem to mind the other girl cutting in. Pontus reached forward and grabbed on, bringing it to his mouth and using it as a microphone.

Lyrah scooted back in her chair and stood up on it, dancing while he sang. Acacia wondered if either of them were drunk. Didn't people do stupid things when they were under the influence of something else? Lyrah was a very plain looking girl, but with a huge smile on her face and her strong sense of self, she was actually quite pretty.

Lyrah didn't seem to care that she was now on the table dancing like a stripper while Pontus serenaded her.

"Boo!" Tallulah said, grabbing her linen napkin and tossing it at Lyrah.

"TRIBUTES!" The Gamemaker shouted, grouping all twenty four of them into one single word. Acacia actually found it downgrading. She might be a tribute, but that didn't put her in the same class as, say, Tallulah or Tory. Pontus and Lyrah eventually sat back down and pretended to put on apologetic faces.

The next course was brought out, and Acacia eyed the salad. The Gamemaker explained that it was a bed of lettuce with olive oil dressing, feta cheese, chunks of olives and tomatoes.

As soon as olive was mentioned, Acacia had pushed her plate back. Sure, it sounded okay, but she didn't want to eat anything with that dreaded fruit. Lyrah grabbed the pepper shaker and sprinkled some on her salad.

"Delicious," she said with her full mouth.

"Gross," said Jo, who was sitting across from Lyrah. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to chew with your mouth closed?"

"Aw, you don't like seafood?" Pontus said, jumping to Lyrah's defense. "Because I think fish is delicious."

Acacia groaned with the others at the horrible joke. Typical Four. The only thing on their minds were of the scaly nature. She didn't like him. He was too outgoing and forward for her. There was something about him that ticked her off, and it wasn't the fact that he was gay. It was the fact that he was annoying.

"Can I have yours if you're not going to eat it?" Lyrah asked, reaching over to take the plate.

"How do you stay so skinny? You eat like a pig!" Pontus said, poking her stomach.

"Wee!" Lyrah giggled. "It's because I don't eat much at home. Too many mouths to feed at my house. And I like running. My sister is chubby, so I think I stole all the metabolism mechanisms from her."

Acacia doubted that Lyrah was as poor as she was because Acacia was lucky if she even got one meal a day. Her stomach grumbled. The gazpacho had not satisfied her. When she first arrived at the Capitol, she had had to watch her portion sizes. It was bad to go from eating nothing to eating a feast. Her stomach would not be happy when she went back to eating nothing. But that was the nature of the Games.

Lyrah began a conversation with Linden, though it was clear that he wasn't very receptive to talking. Acacia turned to Arien, who was talking to Charisma.

"You're the girl who works with the olive trees, right?" Charisma asked when she noticed Acacia's nosy stare. "I bet you're a great climber. I'm scared of heights, so I'm hoping there will be no cliffs this year like last year."

Last year had been all cliffs with sharp drops to angry waves, ragged rocks jutting out. Five tributes had fallen to their deaths. It had been a bloody mess, and had caused Peonia to ask questions about suicide and falling.

"Don't worry, you won't even make it past the blood bath, it won't matter what the arena is," Tallulah said, the sweetness in her tone contradicting her sharp words.

"Stop pretending like you're the sweetest girl ever. Everyone here can see right through you," Fiver quipped, earning herself a glare.

Acacia concentrated on the Avoxi's, who were clearing the salad plates. "Thank you," she said to the one with pale hair. There was no response. It was five minutes before the next course was brought out. They really were trying to fatten up the tributes. Was that the only point to this feast? Or did the Gamemakers have a secret agenda to stir up more fights and get more enemy relationships started? Because Fiver and Tallulah were sneering at each other. And Pontus was clashing with Castiel. Jo looked ready to jump across the table and strangle Lyrah. Acacia picked up her knife and began to saw at her juicy steak, which just fell apart in an instant. She had never seen a steak cooked so perfectly before. It would probably be the only one she would ever eat in her lifetime.

**Zephyr Cage, District 1**

His mother had never been a good cook. Being so close the Capitol, they usually imported their meals from the Capitol and then froze it. Most people in District 1 had the luxury of a freezer. Zep was used to all of his luxieries, and here at the Capitol, they were even more extensive. The steak melted in his mouth. It was almost like Heaven.

Panem people weren't very religious, but Zep thought that there might just be a higher power out there. That there might be a Heaven. He just couldn't accept the fact that Cotton was gone for good. That she was dead and buried and no chance of being alive in another aspect. Zep was a Career, and he had gotten a good score. He was perfectly capable of winning. But he would be okay if he didn't win either. Because then maybe he could join his sister wherever she might be. He missed his sister, like he would miss his right hand if he ever lost that. Cotton had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember, and he hated not having her in his life anymore.

"That's life," his mother would say whenever Zep brought her up.

"Hmpf, silly child, never had a chance of winning the games," his dad would add. "Cotton was a disgrace. You won't let us down though, Zep."

Zep had always tried to please his parents. He didn't go against their wishes on purpose. After all, that was why part of his hair was still purple.

There were so many personalities surrounding him at this table. Quiet kids like Linden, talkative ones like Kendra. There were friendships that had somehow been forged, such as the one between Lyrah and Pontus, though it seemed like Lyrah might have a crush on Linden. There was the bitchy one, the smart one, the stupid one. Personalities of all types. It made for an entertaining feast.

He watched the others as they ate. Acacia picking at her food, probably wondering what she had done to deserve such an elegant meal. Being from Eleven, he figured it was likely that she'd never had a steak like this before. Not for the first time, Zep was glad he was from the best District. The only thing better would be being from the Capitol. If he had been born there, then he wouldn't be in this predicament and Cotton would still be alive.

Tallulah and Tory were having a discussion on who they thought would be the first to die, and they weren't even bothering to keep their voices down, leading to some angry protests from those they were indicating to die.

"I am not going to die first," Albacore replied, sticking his lower lip out.

"You totally are," Tallulah said. Her good-girl act had been dropped, as there was no one important enough around for her to put on her show. "You have a broken foot and can barely get around as is."

"Now, Tallulah," Pontus interrupted her, "that's not very nice."

"Why not? Everyone out there is taking bets on who is going to die first. Why can't we?" Tory said, sticking up for Tallulah. His plate was cleared by an Avox with thick dark hair and no eyebrows. "And I say both from Twelve, like always."

The two from Twelve didn't even try to defend themselves. From the sunken in look in their eyes, they seemed to have already given up the fight before it even began. Suckers. Zep couldn't stand people like that. If they wanted to live, they had to fight. He had learned that the hard way. No one was going to fight for you. There was no way they would survive if they had already given up.

"How about bets on who's going to have the most kills?" Roan drawled out slowly. "Cause that I'll be on.

"Can we, like, not talk about this at the dinner table?" Lyrah put in. "This isn't a very uplifting conversation, if you know what I mean."

"Aw, you don't want to talk about your death? Sad." Tallulah rolled her eyes. "There are plenty of necks here that I wouldn't mind snapping. Too bad I can't start now."

"And you used to be so sweet." Lyrah shook her head in disappointment, "What happened?"

Tallulah bared her teeth and growled, putting her palms on the table to push herself up.

"And this is why I said the feast was a bad idea."

Zep looked over to see that the Gamemakers had all entered. The one in the middle had flaming red hair and was glaring at them, but it hadn't been she who had spoken. Actually, he hadn't even heard her talk during his private session. She had been very silent this whole time, leaving the other Gamemakers to speak to them.

"She'll sit back down," the one with red hair finally said slowly, her voice had a commanding feature to it. And Tallulah didn't even pause before putting her ass back on the seat. "They'll all behave if they know what's good for them. Won't they?"

"Yes," Zep replied in unison with the others. No one wanted to piss off the Head Gamemaker. That was recipe for death right there.

"Good. Now, I have something to say to all of you." It was clear that she wasn't used to speaking to the tributes. Zep got the feeling that she thought they were all beneath her. Well, in a way, they kind of were. He wondered how she had gotten her position and if she even deserved it. "The Games start tomorrow. In less than fifteen hours, you will be standing on your plate. The gong will sound, and you will be faced with an impossible task."

Zep wondered if all the groups of tributes got this little "pep talk."

She kept talking. "And it seems like some of you aren't willing to do what it will take to survive."

Zep glanced over at the Twelves. Well, at least he wasn't the only one who thought that.

"So I'm going to up the stakes a bit. The person who has the most kills during the bloodbath will receive something much needed while in the arena. I'm not going to tell you what that object is, but trust me, it will be very helpful to the person who gets it. So good luck tributes. And remember, I'll be watching you." Red hair disappeared out of the room before anyone had a chance to react.

"So, what were you saying about bets on the most kills?" Jo asked Roan, her eyes glinting with danger. Zep gulped. Sure, he knew that Jo was a Victor's daughter, but he had never seen her as a threat until now. "Because it's going to me."

"You're on."

"Dessert will be salted banana cake with creamy caramel icing, candied walnuts, and a banana sorbet," Voluth said, making way for the Avoxes to bring in the next course. Zep's mouth watered as he stared at the plate of sweet goodness. The Gamemakers disappeared, leaving the tributes to get back to their conversation. The banana cake was moist and delicious. There was something about dessert that brought calm to the table.

It really was the calm before the storm. Because once tomorrow hit, there would be no playful bantering or threats that weren't carried out. Tomorrow, all Hell would break lose.

If it didn't before then.

* * *

><p>So that leaves Kendra and Albacore to be our hosts for the launch chapter. And after that, the 60 second countdown! <em>And, you almost have the next chapter finished! <em>Oh be quiet Zep. Don't tell them that. If you tell them it's almost done, they'll expect it in a few days. _You used to update every day. It's taken you almost 6 months just to get to the arena. And you managed to get Death AND Fear completed in less then 6 months. _Are you calling me a slacker? _Well, if the shoe fits. _That's it Zep, you better watch it! _I'm so proud of you Misty, you haven't mentioned reviewing once! Are you done with the shameless begging? _Yeah, I realized that begging doesn't work.

New poll is up, please go vote for your favorite tributes. It'll help me decide on who to kill first and who to keep alive til the final 8.

*~Misty~*


	21. Stars and Stripes

**Kendra**

Stars were Kendra's friends. They shined brightly in the dark. Back home in Four, they were so easy to spot, littering the sky brightly. Kendra could spend all night long lying on her back and watching them twinkle at her. Here in the Capitol, it was more difficult. There were too many other bright lights that prevented the real stars from shining brightly. By this time, District Four was usually in bed with lights out and dreaming of all the fish they would catch in the morning. But the Capitol was awake all night long.

The rooftop was empty. It had been jumping with activity the last few nights, but now, nobody. Only Kendra. Everyone else had retreated to their rooms to prepare for the Games the next day. But not Kendra. She didn't need to. What happened would happen. And nothing she did would change the fact. The stars had already decided her fate. Sure, she didn't know what that was yet, but soon enough she would find out, and she would accept that.

Footsteps behind her made her turn around. A wide smile crept up on her face when she saw Roan. She wasn't sure what it was about him. But he always made her feel good inside. She wished that she had Keitha to talk to. Her best friend would understand like the other tributes wouldn't. Maybe that was why she liked Roan. Because Roan always told her exactly what was up. He never sugar coated things, but he wasn't exactly mean about it either. He didn't have a secret agenda like Tallulah did. Tallulah was a back stabber. Castiel was quiet but deadly, and Tory could just be an idiot sometimes.

And he was just a God. Like, seriously. She was going to miss him when he finally croaked. Because she was from Four, and there was no way the fates would let a non Career from Ten outlive her.

"I'm going to miss this," Kendra said as she curled up next to him. There was no answer from him. She nudged him in the side. "Well?"

"Well what?" He asked.

"Aren't you going to miss me too?"

"Kendra, you're an idiot sometimes." Roan pushed her away from him, and she watched with a dropped jaw as he walked away without a single glance back at her.

She wanted to be upset. Because he had just rejected her. But instead she took a deep breath and fought the tears. That was that. The stars had spoken and they weren't meant to be. It would be okay. Obviously Kendra didn't need him to win this thing.

She looked down at the Capitol. In just a few hours, they'd be looking down at her. Watching as she fought for her life. And they'd enjoy it. Just as much as she was enjoying watching that skinny little stick of a girl puke on her shoes because she drank too much. It was hard to get liquor that wasn't a sardine flavored brew, so Kendra doubted she could even drink one can before having to puke it out.

In the distance, the sun was starting to rise. In a few hours, her mentor was going to come wake her up to get ready for the Games. Kendra wasn't tired. In fact, she was wide awake. But it wouldn't hurt to get a few hours of shut eye. Kendra left the rooftop and went down to the Fourth floor. She didn't run into a single tribute on her way.

The bed was soft and looked very comfortable. It was practically beckoning to her. Kendra gave in and sank into the bed. It was as if she had barely closed her eyes before the door barged open and she was rudely awoken.

"Come on dear, up and at'em. The sun is shining, the rooster is crowing, and it's time to get you dressed and stuffed like a turkey."

"But I don't wanna go to school today. I wanna stay home and bake cookies with you," Kendra said sleepily, her eyes still half closed. The covers that were protecting her from the strong current of the air conditioning disappeared. She curled up into a ball to keep warm. Then the pillow that was supporting her head was pulled out from underneath her. Kendra flopped onto her stomach, only to be pulled off the bed. She fell with a thud to the floor.

"No time for games today, Kendra."

"Well…actually-" She began, only to cut herself off by the fierce look she was getting. "Right, I'm getting in the shower now."

The shower, like it had been for the past few days, was marvelous, and Kendra had trouble turning the water off. But there were just so many different fun options to choose from. So many different scents of soap. In the end she decided to go with honeysuckle. Lately all the arenas had been outside in the wild. She wouldn't stand out as much with a floral scent. Besides, honeysuckle was oddly soothing and it smelled good.

"Ooh, you stink. You can't go in the arena smelling like that."

And with that announcement, Kendra found herself being dragged out of the room and down the hall to where her prep team was waiting for her. They jumped at the chance to get to work on her.

"Take it easy guys, there's no need to impress the audience now. We have to be practical."

"What is the outfit this year?"

"I don't know, remember? They always keep it locked up in a box and I don't even get to see it 'til I get her to the launch room."

Kendra listened as the prep team and stylist bantered about and got her ready. Kendra closed her eyes and let her thoughts take over. She wondered what life would be like if she did miraculously win. She'd be rich, she'd have money so her sister wouldn't have to live in poverty anymore. It was tiring living with her crackhead mother and her overprotective father. If she won, she'd be on her own. Well….kinda. She remembered the last time someone won from Four. It had been a seventeen year old guy, and all of his "relatives" came out of the woodwork as soon as he was pronounced the victor. She'd make a good victor. Living in the fancy neighborhood in the nice houses among all the other victors. She'd be living near Pontus's family. Hmm… that might be awkward. Cause that would mean that Pontus was dead. But it didn't seem like Pontus's father liked his son very much.

It felt like forever before it was decided that she was ready.

"Come on sweetie. Let's get on the hovercraft and go to our destination."

Kendra got into the hover craft, the windows let in a steady stream of air, and soon they were off to an unknown place. Kendra watched as the landscape changed to reflect where they were. She tried to figure out what the arena was going to be. Would it be ocean? Desert? A forest? So many different options. So many unknowns. She closed her eyes and whispered soft prayers to the stars, asking them to watch over her.

If they didn't, then who would?

**Albacore**

The windows in the hovercraft blacked out about an hour after getting on board. That meant that they were close. None of the tributes were supposed to know what the arena was going to be like until they all exploded out of the earth and stood on their plates.

"You okay?" His stylist, Chimey, asked. Albacore didn't know why the tributes went to the arena with their stylist instead of their mentor. Probably because some Districts, like his own, only had one. And one person couldn't be in two places at once. Well, there had only been 32 other Games, and most of the time, a tribute from One, Two, or Four won, the lower (or would it be higher, Albacore didn't know why they called the higher numbers the lower Districts) hardly ever won, and they were lucky if they had two winners. In fact, Twelve had just gotten their first victor last year. For the previous years, they didn't have a mentor and their Stylists had stood in. Which was okay, because most of them died in the blood bath anyway. Although, maybe if they had someone qualified mentoring, then they could make it past the first day. But that was neither here nor there.

"Just fine," Albacore responded, reaching down to scratch his itching foot. It had started acting up this morning as if it knew that the crutches were going to be taken away and Albacore would have to walk on the foot himself. _It'll be okay. _He tried to give himself a pep talk, but the fear in his stomach wouldn't subside. It's not like he hadn't been in danger like this before. It's not like he had never feared for his life. There were some mornings, when his Uncle Lucas was particularly bad off, that Albacore thought Lucas was going to kill them all. _It's just morning time at the house_, he tried to soothe himself. _That's all it is. Just have to run from Lucas, and I'm safe._

His leg throbbed, letting him know that it would be next to impossible to run as fast as he was used to. At least he had talked his mentor into letting him take a shitload of painkillers first. Maybe he wouldn't feel as much pain once the medicine began to kick in. Well, at least he could hope. He was still cursing his Uncle for breaking his foot right before the reapings. But his pain didn't matter, only his two cousins and his little sister's safety. And if he could guarantee that, then a broken bone wasn't going to stop him.

The hovercraft began to lower. He knew because his stomach flopped as if it was on a boat being tossed about an angry sea.

"We're almost there," Chimey said. "I think we went pretty far this year. Last year the ride was less than an hour long."

That thought didn't exactly comfort him, but at the same time, it just meant there was more distance between him and the Capitol. And hey, maybe it even put him closer to District 6 and his sister. That helped him a tad bit.

It didn't take long before Albacore was slowly dragging his foot through the tunnels underneath the arena. They had made him leave his crutches in the Hovercraft, and he could already tell that this was going to be problematic. It was slow going down the various empty tunnels. Just Chimey and him. They didn't run into a single other person. Lights flickered, lighting the path, and Chimey eventually stopped at the room that said "District 6 Male."

"This is our stop," Chimey said as he put his thumb on the scanner and the lock clicked. The room wasn't huge, but there was enough space for a couch, a table filled with food and a pitcher of water, and the famous plate that would shoot him up to the arena. There was a box lying on the coffee table that had Albacore's name on it. "That's your outfit."

After helping Albacore sit down on the couch, Chimey undid the twining around white box. "This isn't _that _bad of an outfit. I've seen worse." He held up a black and white stripped cotton t-shirt-

"Stripes? Like a prison shirt?" Albacore made a face.

-And a pair of slacks to match the shirt, accompanied by tennis shoes with velcro instead of laces.

"You know, you can tell a lot about the arena just by the outfit you are given. Since this is cotton, I am almost certain that there will not be an ocean or any big body of water, and probably won't be much rain either. Because rain and cotton don't mix. Since these are pants instead of shorts, you'll probably have to watch out for bushes and plants. The shoes indicate that there will be a lot of walking, but not much hiking. There probably won't be any sand," Chimey said.

"That shoe isn't going to fit," Albacore said, "my foot is still swollen up."

"It's an adjustable shoe. We'll get it on."

And of course, they did. Chimey went on about some of the other tributes whom he had been a stylist for. "One year, I had a girl from Six, Marianna, you might remember her-"

"Yes, I do-"

"- it was only three years ago," Chimey continued as if Albacore hadn't interrupted. "She hated the color orange-"

"-so that's why everything was orange that year."

"Quit interrupting me," Chimey scolded. "So to mess with her, the Gamemakers gave everyone an orange jumpsuit and painted all the tree trunks in the arena orange. She was a sweet girl, but a tad crazy if you know what I mean."

"So what'll you say about me to the tributes next year?"

"I'll tell them what an idiot you were for volunteering with a broken foot," Chimey shook his head. "It's definitely not going to help you. You have a disadvantage right off the bat. So run. As soon as that gong sounds, get out of there. Don't stop for any of the sparkling goodies at the Cornucopia. No one will run after you right away, they'll be too distracted by the weapons and the tributes that decided to stay and duke it out. Just get away, find a place to hide, and then focus on getting water. It will be okay if you just play your cards right."

"You're pretty smart for just being a stylist."

"Well, your mentor told me to make sure that you understand that you need to get out of there."

"Prius doesn't trust me, does he?"

"Not particularly." Chimey agreed, "Prius knows you're driven, he's just afraid that you're too reckless and daring. I think he thinks that Lyrah will be District 6's chance this year even though her family doesn't have a great reputation in the games. But maybe she'll be the one to turn the Henley family luck around.

A loud piercing sound came from a box in the corner, "tributes, take your places on the plate."

"That's you, come on." Chimey helped Albacore to the plate. It was painful standing and not being able to lean on the crutches. He tried to put all of his weight onto his non-broken foot but it didn't do much good. "Good luck," Chimey said as a glass dome fell around Albacore, sealing him in tight.

There was a bell and a whoosh and he went flying up to the surface. His last view was of Chimey waving goodbye to him.

* * *

><p>Next chapter we venture into the arena! <em>Oh Crap. <em>It's okay Albacore, just get out of the Cornucopia as fast as you can. _Fast...hahaha, don't make me laugh Misty. _The 60 second countdown chapter is the easiest chapter to write, so guess what? It's already done, beta-ed and ready to post. _And let me guess...to get it posted, the readers need to review, right? _You got it Albacore, you're so smart. _I know! _Remember to vote. It might save a tribute. _Like me!_

*~Misty~*


	22. Flying High

Tory opened her eyes and blinked in the bright sunlight. She really wished that they had given her a pair of sunglasses as part of the required outfit. The sun almost seemed artificial. It was going to bleach out her hair and turn it white. And with her fair skin she was going to get so sunburnt.

Sixty Seconds.

She thought of her boyfriend back home. Thread was probably being bossed around by her family right now. Poor fella, not having her around to stand up for him. He was the only reason why she wanted to win. Tory wanted to go home to him. She looked up, hoping there was a camera nearby, and flashed him a smile. Even if there was a camera somewhere, it wasdoubtful that he was even watching the television. Avoxes weren't required to watch the whole thing because they were slaves, and tv was seen as entertainment, not punishment.

Fifty nine seconds.

Zep glanced around, trying to figure out what was up with the arena. It sure was unlike any he had seen before. At least it was a disadvantage that they all had. He was standing on his plate, just like everyone else. He felt exposed though. Was that how Cotton felt during her Games? Lost and alone.

Fifty eight seconds.

He missed his sister so much. But he would win these Games for her. At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He told himself that Cotton would be proud of him. That she was watching him from Heaven and wishing him good luck.

Fifty seven seconds.

Tallulah was tired of these tributes already. She couldn't wait to get down and dirty and tear them to shreds. She was tired of pretending to be someone that she wasn't. It was in her nature to be mean and cold.

Fifty six seconds.

She glared at the small, scared girl standing directly in front of her. Only the mess of the cornucopia was in Tallulah's way. Tallulah made a mental strategy for what she was going to do as soon as the gong sounded. The boy from Twelve, who was to her right, would be the first to go. Tallulah was going to have the most kills if it was the last thing she did.

Fifty five seconds.

Castiel was impressed by the stack of weapons in the middle of the ring of tributes. So many things there would cause death. Painful death, slow death, quick death. Spears, swords, two axes, even a trident. The gay one would be happy.

Fifty four seconds.

He had been questioning himself this whole time. Could he really turn into the monster that his father had been? Roman had the first kill during his Games. Castiel didn't want to follow in his father's footsteps though. He was his own person.

Fifty three seconds.

Fiver searched around for Cord. They still hadn't decided on a third. Well, as soon as they got far away from the Cornucopia, they could focus on expanding their alliance. But for now, they had bigger things to worry about. Like getting that battery that was jutting up in the pile.

Fifty two seconds.

She found Cord seven tributes to her right. They made eye contact with each other. They had plans for what to do during the bloodbath. She crossed her fingers and hoped against hope that all would go according to plan.

Fifty one seconds.

Cord gave Fiver a reassuring smile. She was the best ally out there, and she was his ticket to staying alive for a bit. Fiver was ready to fight. She would have his back as he ran to the cornucopia to get as many supplies as he could. Then they would run. But as he looked at the arena, he didn't know where they would run to.

Fifty seconds.

He was shocked by the arena and didn't know what to make of it. The tributes were all in a circle, like always. No pattern to who stood where. As always, the cornucopia was in the middle. But usually, there was a wide expanse of land to run off to. Not this year.

Forty nine seconds.

Kendra didn't smell a drop of water. Which was perfectly fine with her. Just because she was from Four didn't mean that she _had_ to like water. It was dry and hot, though.

Forty eight seconds.

She searched for the other Careers. She was still a part of their alliance, which would help keep her alive if it was meant to be. Roan was directly to his right. He flashed her a smile. She lowered her eyes at him. He just grinned. What an asshole. Oh well. If she wasn't meant to be with him, she wasn't meant to be with him. And she would be okay. She believed that much.

Forty seven seconds.

Pontus was hoping for an arena of water. It would have been almost like home. But there wasn't a drop of water in sight. His throat groaned in protest. He really hoped that he could find a stream or something. Water was a necessary part of survival. He had learned that much from his parents.

Forty six seconds.

He actually wasn't happy with the arena. And he wasn't even sure what it was. It was some kind of plant, a plant that he had never seen before. He kicked himself for not venturing over to the edible plant station during the training session.

Forty five seconds.

Illana knew she was going to die. She had known ever since her name had been delicately plucked from the fishbowl. She had no chance of surviving. Her goodbye with her parents and brothers had been final. They all knew that she would be coming home in a casket.

Forty four seconds.

She was going to miss her family. But at the same time, she didn't mind. District 5 children were supposed to grow up and become scientists. But Illana hated chemicals and explosions. At school they called her a freak of nature. She was glad to finally be away.

Forty three seconds.

Neo wanted to be a scientist. He had solved his first chemical reaction when he was only three, and he had found it to be an amazing experience. But now, he could see his future slipping away. Good bye, plans of being a famous mutation scientist.

Forty two seconds.

He was the smartest kid in his year at school. The first one from his grade to be reaped for the Games. His friends had feigned disappointment, but Neo knew that they weren't too upset. With Neo gone, the rest of them had a chance to be the smartest. They had a chance to get that apprenticeship with scientist Radley, the one that Neo had been promised.

Forty one seconds.

Lyrah remembered two years ago when her cousin Bozno had stood on his plate with a terrified expression on his face. He had been the first to die that year. Lyrah was not going to let that happen. She had too much fight in her. She was fifteen and very feisty.

Forty seconds.

She also had a plan up her sleeves. Everyone always wrote the Sixes off as bloodbaths because they weren't strong and had no idea how to handle weapons. But being from Six…she was smart, and she knew things that the other tributes didn't.

Thirty nine seconds.

Albacore's foot was killing him. He had been standing on it for too long, and the minute wasn't even half over. He just wanted to collapse, but May's innocent face kept popping in his mind.

Thirty eight seconds.

He did a double take when he looked at the cornucopia and saw a pair of crutches. But not just any crutches, it was the ones that he had been using the past week. The ones that he had come to love and cherish. The ones with the pocket he had sewn on and put a cushion on the top where his armpits rested. All plans of running went out the door. He needed those crutches.

Thirty seven seconds.

Jo took a deep, calming breath. She could do this. She knew she could. Her mother had trained her well. Jo was the most well prepared non-Career that there was. She would have no problems winning this whole thing.

Thirty six seconds.

She knew that she could pull this off. It was all a matter of watching her back and not trusting anybody. She debated not going to the Cornucopia, but she wanted to show the sponsors that she was worth sponsoring. And the Capitol people hated giving their precious money to cowards. Besides, there was the promise of a special gift to the one with the most kills.

Thirty five seconds.

Linden wasn't sure who his alliance consisted of. It had never been decided. He was too shy to talk to the others. It was clear that Jo wanted to be on her own. Lyrah seemed to have taken a fancy to him, but she was also buddy-buddy with the gay from Four.

Thirty four seconds.

He needed an alliance. At least for a little bit. He would not be able to survive without someone to help him. He caught Lyrah's eye. She was motioning at the two of them. Apparently she did want an alliance with him. Well, it was better than nothing. And he could be with someone worse. Nothing wrong with Lyrah.

Thirty three seconds.

Hannah struggled to keep her mind intact, but Sarah was stronger than ever. Sarah was determined to be letout for the bloodbath. Hannah just wanted to run towards the opening closest to her. There were only four openings to get out of the Cornucopia field. One on the south end, one on the north end, one on the east end and one on the west end. She was closest to the south opening.

Thirty two seconds.

She knew that she could make it as long as Sarah didn't take over. But this was what Sarah was made to do. Sarah had already done this once before. This was nothing new.

Thirty one seconds.

Sarah grinned as she felt herself slip into control. Perfect. Now she could join the Careers like she was supposed to. She shut Hannah up and focused on keeping her mind intact. Hannah became quiet and Sarah grinned. It had been a long time since there had been silence in her mind.

Thirty seconds.

She hadn't felt this free in ages. She couldn't wait to run and hold a weapon in her hand. It was always horrible being locked up, and she didn't plan on that happening ever again. Once the gong sounded, and the blood began to spill, Hannah would be too traumatized to fight for her mind. At least, that was what Sarah was banking on.

Twenty nine seconds.

Chuck kept his hand around the small hourglass ticking away by his throat. He kept glancing at it, scared at how little sand was left to fall into the bottom chamber. At this rate, he was never going to get back to Tahlia, because she was going to be dead. As soon as he thought that, the last grain of sand swept to the opening. NO!

Twenty eight seconds.

He made a split second decision. He had failed. Tahlia had said that as soon as all the sand had fallen, that meant she had taken her last breath. Could he live without her? He couldn't. He bit his bottom lip, grasped the hourglass tightly and took a step.

Twenty seven seconds.

Charisma jumped at the sound of the explosion and screamed as body parts fell like rain. It had been years since a tribute was blown up by stepping off the plate. It was for those who wanted to die and take the easy way out. Who had it been? Who had died?

Twenty six seconds.

She looked out past her tears, trying to figure it out. So were all the other tributes. Tallulah didn't look happy, probably because that was one last tribute she could kill herself. Charisma wondered what it felt like to get blown up. Could she have done that? She didn't see that as a coward's way out. In fact, she admired the person who had been able to step off the plate, knowing it would be the last step he or she would ever take.

Twenty five seconds.

Arien could see the disgust on Charisma's face. He had really bonded with that little girl. Charisma was like his little sister now, and he would do whatever it took to protect her. He wanted to run over to her and wrap her in a hug, shield her from the skin that was still falling from the sky.

Twenty four seconds.

He forced himself to stay still. He couldn't help anyone if _his_ body parts were flying around too. Gravity was a force of nature, and because of gravity, the child who had blown up couldn't stay in the air. The remains had to fall down. At least being blown up was faster than drowning.

Twenty three seconds.

Cataria shrieked. There was a hand on her shoulder! Well, most of a hand. Some of the fingertips had been severed. Blood was all over her shirt and hair. She really wanted a shower right now. Why on Panem did she think she could do this? There was no way. The gong hadn't even sounded and she wanted out.

Twenty two seconds.

She felt dirty, she was dirty! There was blood all over her! She wanted it to disappear. She counted in increments of ten. But it was no use. She hated feeling like this, but there was nothing to do to stop it. If only she could run, but one body had already blown up. Thinking about herself in little pieces just made it worse.

Twenty one seconds.

Roan chuckled as he watched darling Cataria-or _Chameleon-_ freak out from the raining blood and guts of the kid from Eight. Roan had always loved the entertainment that the Bangladesh sisters provided.

Twenty seconds.

He glanced at the pile in front of him and cursed when he didn't see any beer or cigarettes. He had tried to sneak both of them in, claiming that they were tokens, but that didn't fly over well with the Gamemakers. Maybe Kanga would send in some for him. That would be nice.

Nineteen seconds.

Acacia grinned as she made sense of the arena. Corn stalks were everywhere. She had been in a corn maze before during the fall festival back home in the District. It was always fun to get lost in the many tunnels that had been made. She knew all about corn, and eating dried corn would be a well welcomed change from olives.

Eighteen seconds.

She found the closest opening to get into the maze. She didn't need to go into the thicket of the Cornucopia. She knew how to make a weapon with corn, how to get water and food. She was in her element. And for the first time, she knew that she had a chance.

Seventeen seconds.

Leaf smiled at the corn maze. He worked out in the fields back in his District, so corn made him think of home. It was the best arena that he could ever hope for.

Sixteen seconds.

He just needed to find the perfect nook in the maze, one that would give him an escape route so he wouldn't be cornered. Of course, the entrance into the maze was pretty far away from him. He was standing directly between the north and east entrances. He just had to run and hope he was fast enough to avoid flying knives.

Fifteen seconds.

Dusty had grown up in the Seam in District 12. She was skinny and constantly had a layer of dirt all over her body. As soon as she arrived in the Capitol, she had been poked and prodded and plucked. She was prettier then she had ever been in her life.

Fourteen seconds.

She didn't want to go back home to Twelve, even if she went home a winner. No matter where she lived, there would always be a layer of coal dust. She was tired of dust bunnies and having a hacking cough. She was glad for the sunlight and brightness, it was so unlike home.

Thirteen seconds.

Myne's fate back at home was to be a coal miner. Where most people died an early age from either tunnel collapses or what they called the black lung. His daddy had died when Myne was only eight from a black lung.

Twelve seconds.

He would never have to go deep into the mines now. He had been saved, in an ironic type of way. But it didn't matter. He was safe from his daddy's fate. And now he was one less mouth that his harried mother had to feed. More food for his seven siblings to fight over.

Eleven

The twenty-three tributes that were left (twenty four if you counted Sarah) stood there; calculating their own moves, trying to figure out what everyone else was going to do.

Ten seconds.

Time was going too slowly for them, they just wanted the countdown to end so they could have at it.

Nine seconds.

Flamiken was impressed by the arena. It was an expansive corn maze that went on for miles. Twists and turns and dead ends to keep all the tributes on their toes. And in the dead center was a space big enough for the cornucopia and 24 plates all spaced out.

Eight seconds.

She was pleased with how it turned out. And there were many traps already laid out. All the Gamemakers were going to be very busy for the next few days.

Seven seconds.

The parents of the reaped children were holding their breaths, hoping, praying, wishing for the safety of their loved one.

Six seconds.

The Faith family prayed for Linden. They missed him so much. All they could do was watch and hope that Linden would be okay. But they knew it was unlikely.

Five seconds.

The Henley family had horrible luck. This they knew. But no one deserved to have their daughter standing on the plate preparing for an onslaught of death.

Four seconds.

May sobbed. It hurt seeing her only brother in so much pain. Why had he done this? She knew that he wanted to win to get them out of Uncle Lucas's evil grasp, but she'd rather live with Albacore than without him.

Three seconds.

Chameleon couldn't believe that her twin sister, Cataria, had made it this far. She was so proud of Cat. Pissed also, because Cat shouldn't have done the whole twin switch. What had her sister been thinking when she did that? Cat could have just volunteered, but they both knew Cham wouldn't have let that happen. But Cat must be in horrible shape right now with Chuck's leftovers all over. Cham blamed their "illnesses" on their parents. They'd both be fine if their parents had actually loved them.

Two Seconds.

Siblings of the reaped children buried their faces in their parents' stomachs. They hoped that their brother or sister would come back home alive, but knew the odds were more likely in favor of a casket.

One Second.

All of Panem was gathered around the screens as the countdown drew to a close. On your mark, get set, go.

Zero seconds.

The whole world let out their breath as the countdown ended and the blood bath began.

* * *

><p>Do you know what this means? <em>WHAT? What? Que? Huh? Oh don't leave me in suspense. <em>Oh hush whichever of you tributes just spoke. I can't keep you all straight when you're all shouting at once. _Well, you're the one who asked us. _I was not asking you! I was asking the readers. _You ask them to review all the time, and they never answer that plea, so what makes you think they'll answer this question. _Ugh, you tributes are so difficult. _We blame you._ _Yes, we do. It's fun to blame someone!_ If you don't stop annoying me right now, no blood bath chapter for you! _... ... ..._ ... ... That's more like it! _... ... ... ... ... _Okay, okay, I get the point. ... FIVER! _What are you yelling at me for, it wasn't me *innocent face* _*Headpalm* _You look good like that, you should walk around with your palm on your head all the time. _*Whack* _You know Misty, you really have issues. You're talking to a bunch of made up characters. _*GLARES* _Okay, okay, we get it. We'll go fight to the death now. _Thank you, that's all I ask of you._  
><em>

*~Misty~*


	23. How to Throw an Ear of Corn

This chapter jumps from point of view to point of view, hopefully it's not too difficult to follow. Oh, and I lied before, _THIS_ is my longest chapter ever, well at the time, it wasn't a lie, so forgive me? Please?

* * *

><p>xxx Day 1 xxx<p>

* * *

><p>Not everyone has the same reaction. Old people, adults, children; they are all different. Personalities are not the same for everyone. In fact, it would be a very boring world if everyone was the same.<p>

So when the gong went off, not all of the children had the same reaction. Some headed for the cornucopia right off the bat, while others ran for one of the openings into the maze, while a few of them stood frozen on their plates, scared to move. They had all witnessed what happened when one stepped off prematurely.

Charisma was terrified that they, whoever "they" were, had forgotten to unrig her plate. She was terrified that even though the gong went off, she would still be blown up once she moved. Arien was shouting at her. Telling her to run. He was too far away to save her, and so he watched, unable to do anything, as Tallulah threw a handful of knives, one going straight through Charisma's stomach, staining her prison outfit in red. The last color she would ever see. The last thing she would ever hear would be Arien screaming her name as Tallulah shouted triumphantly.

xxx

Easha handed Volouth a wad of cash, he took it gleefully and counted it, making sure it was all there.

"You should learn not to bet against me on the first kill, I _always _get that right!" He gloated.

"Get back to work," Flamiken shouted at them as she shook her head in disdain. Volouth was so childish, and he was dragging impressionable Easha down with him. She made a mental note to have a _chat_ with him later. Right now she had to focus on the tributes as they ran, cowered, fought, and screamed. "Alidia, get that camera on Jo…wow, look at her go, she really is her mother's daughter."

When the gong had sounded, Jo had been one of the first to react. She had sprinted to the middle of the cornucopia, grabbed the ax that was protruding out and then turned to face her first opponent.

"We need to stop putting ax's in the cornucopia, Seven's are deadly with them," Alidia said as she turned the camera and focused on Jo's deadly blow. The boy from Twelve crumpled to the ground, his blood forever staining the straw that had been strewn about the arena to keep the corn maze more accurate. Jo swung the ax around easily as she pawed through the goodies, looking for something useful. None of the others paid her any mind, they were too busy going after other targets or searching for their own supplies. Once the Careers all secured weapons, they went around picking off the weak tributes who were trying to run. They didn't need to paw though the supplies yet. Once the blood bath was over, they knew that they would own the cornucopia and everything that had been left.

xxx

"Come on Fiver!" Cord shouted at his partner's back. She was dancing though the thicket of bodies, searching for anything useful, leaving Cord to defend her back. All he had managed to pick up before Kendra had come at him was a corn husk. He chucked it at her, she dodged it easily.

"I think that was meant to hit you!" Fiver shouted, as she slung a full backpack over her shoulder, grabbed Cord and they made a run for it. "You and me dude, let's book it."

They sprinted for the exit, ready to put the cornucopia far behind them. But they were stopped when Cord screamed out and his right hand went flying to his left shoulder. "I'm hit," his face was screwed up in pain. Fiver reached over, pulled the small dagger out and stashed it.

"It's just a flesh wound, you'll be fine, and now we have a knife. Keep going." She pulled at him, but Cord was dead weight, and she needed help. Her eyes danced around wildly, looking for a third. She found Lyrah. Somehow that girl was miraculously holding her own against Tory. Fiver made a split second decision. Leaving Cord and going to Lyrah's rescue, Fiver took the knife and managed to stab it in Tory's shoulder. Tory gave out a war cry, turning to face Fiver.

"I wouldn't have done that if I were you!" Tory screeched.

"Luckily you aren't," Fiver said sweetly, sidestepping to her left. She saw Lyrah grab the knife that had lodged itself into Tory, and then Lyrah plunged it deep into the other shoulder. "Let's go!" Fiver shouted. Lyrah returned the knife to Fiver, and the two of them ran towards Cord. "Be careful with his left shoulder, someone got him with that knife."

"It was Castiel," Lyrah replied with a grimace. "Apparently he's playing the games after all."

"It doesn't matter who it was, just get me out of here," Cord said, fighting through the pain. "Welcome to the crew, Lyrah."

"He didn't want you in the alliance, but since he's crippled, he has no choice in the matter," Fiver said as they made it through one of the openings into the maze. Cord snorted his annoyance at Fiver.

"Glad to be appreciated," Lyrah said, making a sharp turn to the left, "let's go down here."

"What is this anyway?" Fiver asked as they slowed down to a walk. They were safe for now. "They've never done anything like this before. Not that I know of anyway."

"It's a maze," Lyrah replied, "a corn maze by the looks of it. I bet you this whole arena is just left and right turns with dead ends and confusing twists."

"Do you know everything?" Fiver asked, it has seemed like Lyrah was always the one answering the difficult questions.

"My IQ is probably higher then both yours and Cord's combined," Lyrah shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. And really, in the arena, it wasn't. In the arena it was strength over brains and beauty. "Now, come on, we need to find somewhere to rest."

xxx

Meanwhile, back at the cornucopia, Tory was seething at the mouth, just itching to go after them but knowing she couldn't. Not just yet. She satisfied her anger by picking up a spear and running around like a mad woman. Her eyes caught sight of the one with the lame foot, hobbling to the center where his crutches were. Her eyes glinted as she made a move towards him. He saw her coming, and slid forward, grabbing one of the crutches and bringing it upwards to meet the spear. She cried out as he used the other crutch to hit her in the shin. Tory's hands fell to nurse yet another wound. But then her eyes flared up and her pain fed her, giving her a new found energy. She whipped towards him, her hair dancing around wildly as she launched herself into the air.

All those times she wrestled with Thread to make herself stronger and better was finally paying off. Thread had been the one to suggest that they wrestle, and at first, she had been hesitant. But now she was glad that he had talked...well, rather, written...her into it. She missed him, but thinking about him always brought a smile to her face.

So with that huge grin, Tory got to work beating Albacore up, and trying to dodge those fucking crutches of his.

xxx

"Look at those tributes go!" Volouth cried happily. Flamiken almost expected to see tears running down his cheek. "This is one lively crew this year. I didn't think some of them had it in them."

"Can I release my monsters yet?" Wendetta asked impatiently, earning herself one of Flamiken's famous glares. "Right, I'll wait until tomorrow."

"Albacore sure is putting up a fight, I thought for sure that his leg would hold him back, but look at him. He's giving Victory a run for her money," Alidia said, sliding the camera around to pick up the action. Usually they let the cameras turn on their own, but during all the big action scenes, they moved the cameras themselves to make sure that nothing was missed. There were so many cameras in the arena, but Alidia was very good at keeping up with them.

"Those two girls weakened her for him," Flamiken replied, not remembering any of the tributes names.

xxx

Albacore swung himself up, happy to have his crutches supporting him again. Tory lay on the ground, bleeding from her various wounds, and unable to get up. He wasn't sure how he had managed to pin her to the ground. It had all been a blur to him. One minute she was weakening, the next there was a surge of energy and she was a ball of fire as she threw her hands around his neck and tried to strangle him. The next, he had jabbed her with a crutch and she fell again. She wasn't dead, but she wouldn't be following him anytime soon.

He made it to the entrance of the maze and hurried, well, more like hobbled, to a safe location. If there was such thing.

xxx

Hannah was frozen in her mind. Sarah was in control, and Hannah banged to no avail. Sarah was ignoring her, concentrating on her current fight with the girl from Twelve, who was sobbing over the death of her District partner. It was clear that Sarah was having fun. Hannah was not. She didn't want to be here, locked in her own mind, in the arena. She wanted to be in her mother's loving embrace. But it was pointless. She'd probably never see her parents again. Flashes of her past came flying into her mind. She tried to expel them, lock them up like Sarah had locked her up. But the images were relentless. And Hannah cried silently as she realized what Sarah was up to.

Sarah grinned, loving the pain that Hannah was in. Loving the pain that the Twelve girl was in. Sarah had done this before, and she loved the feeling of a sharp weapon in her hand, and the smell of blood in the air. This was nothing new to her as she watched Twelve cry out.

"Please, don't."

"Too late," Sarah replied, as she easily slid the blade into the girl's stomach and twisted it to the side. The girl wasn't dead, not yet. It hadn't been a deadly blow. But the stomach acids had been released, and now they would eat at the girl's other organs. Soon the girl was begging for death, asking to be spared from a far more painful ending. Sarah moved on to her next victim.

xxx

"So that's one death to Tallulah, one to Jo, and one to Hannah," Easha said, keeping score.

"Twelve isn't dead yet," Flamiken replied, "well, the boy is dead, but the girl is still alive. She'll be dead soon, but you can't count it as Hannah's kill yet. Someone else might deliver the last blow."

Sure enough, Jo came over, saw how much pain Twelve was in, and ended it. Dusty slid into death silently, and Jo bent down to close her eyelids to protect the blank eyes.

"Two for Jo, one for Tallulah," Easha updated. They went back to watching the action happening on the screen. Tributes were scrambling about, running for cover, locked in fights, dropping weapons. It was entertainment at its optimum. Panem had to be loving this. Flamiken was loving this. There was so much action going on. Fights between the tributes were everywhere. Some were getting injured, others were dying, and others still were managing to escape, for now.

xxx

Roan watched with amusement as Cat grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over her head, letting the clean water wash away Chuck's leftovers. She was so lucky that no one was paying her any mind. He sighed. As much as that girl annoyed him, there was something endearing about her. He took his sweet time getting to her, going out of his way to run into Kendra and smack her in the back of her head, her eyes zoomed upwards and she fell to the ground. He chuckled to himself. She'd be out for a few good hours.

"Come on, kitty," Roan purred, as he took Cat by the arm and dragged her away. She reacted like he knew she would. She twisted violently in his arms, screaming and stomping her foot an even amount of times. "Run," he hissed at her, "come on."

Somehow he managed to convince her to follow him into the maze. She looked around at the surroundings and sneezed. "This place needs a major cleanup," he told her, hoping for a smile of some sort and getting nothing from him. "Here," he handed her a bag and a knife, "there's some essentials in there, and this is to defend yourself. Now go!" He gave her a push, and watched her stumbled away. He returned back to the action. Feeling satisfied that Cat was safe, for now, he grabbed another weapon from the pile and looked for a fight.

xxx

Cat couldn't concentrate long enough to figure out what was going on. There was a thick substance on her arm that she longed to get off, and part of her brain realized that it was Chuck. The other part of her brain had shut down. Overwhelmed, she stumbled through the maze, not even realizing where she was or what she was doing as she ran into thick walls of corn. All she could do was cry as she tore through the arena like a wild animal. There were no clear thoughts going through her mind. Before she knew it, she fell to an exhausted heap in one of the numerous dead ends in the maze. Unable to go on. A weak kitten who could barely lift up its head. And while the other tributes fought, and ran for their lives, she curled up in a ball and cried.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Her heart slowly began to go back to its normal speed. The loud thumping, which she sword could be heard in District 12, began to quiet. She did another set of counting to ten, it was the easiest way to relax herself, especially when she didn't have her sisters with her. Another set of ten and she almost, but not quite, felt normal again. Until she glanced down and saw the blood stains smeared across her arms. She broke into wild sobs again. Why did she think she could do this? What an idiot she had been.

xxx

Illana had no idea how she had managed to live for this long. She had thought that she'd be the first to die. Then, when that kid had gotten blown up, she had thought she'd be the second. So far, she had managed to stay out of sight, therefore dodging the others who wanted her dead. In fact, she had been so shocked that she didn't die right away that she was hesitant about what to do next. Tributes were getting to and from the pile as they grabbed what they needed. Should she risk it? Or should she run for cover right away and not worry about supplies until she found a safe nook.

Precious seconds passed her by before she made up her mind and headed for the safety of the maze. But it was a few seconds too late. She didn't even know who killed her. Her world turned black and her thoughts disappeared.

xxx

"Let's add Roan to the mix. One kill for him," Flamiken added his name to the board, and put a cross though Illana's name. Adding his name next to it to show who killed her. There was a similar strikes through Charles', Charisma's, Dusty's, and Myne's name. There was no second name next to Charles's.

"So that's four down. Not bad for being only fifteen minutes in." Volouth pointed at the clock that was ticking away, proclaiming how long it had been since the gong had sounded.

"I bet you the boy from Eleven will be next," Easha said, turning to Volouth. He grinned and accepted the bet. They turned to the screen, and he groaned when he saw that Easha would probably be right.

"That's cheating," Volouth said. "You were watching the screen."

"Oh stop your whining, you should have looked before you made the bet," Flamiken interceded the two of them. "Besides, he's not dead yet, anything can happen, so shut up and watch, and make sure you don't screw anything up."

And with those words, the Gamemakers went back to observing the tributes.

xxx

Leaf wasn't sure how he had gotten into his current predicament. His plan had been to run straight into the maze and hide out. He knew he could survive in a corn maze.

But his escape had been rudely interrupted when some Careers came at him. He wasn't sure of their names. He hadn't paid much attention during the training and all of that. But it was two of the boys, since the girls were busy showing off.

"Come on gaywad, show me you're capable of being part of our crew. Kill this sucker, or I'll kill you." Was he the guy from One or Two? Leaf couldn't remember.

"How about you let me go," Leaf replied, shaking like a, well, like a leaf. He had been named well.

"Just do it gaywad."

"Really, that's the best you can do?" The gay one said, "I've been called much better than that."

"Well aren't you a lucky one."

Leaf wasn't an idiot. Well….not _that_ idiotic. He wasn't the smartest in his year, but he knew to leave the scene while the Careers boys were occupied. He didn't make it far before they realized though.

"Think you can outsmart us?"

Leaf shook his head violently. Obviously not. He tried to think, but that hurt his brain. He was never one for planning ahead and figuring things out ahead of time. He was more of an acting five seconds _after_ he should have type of person.

And as the two Careers came at him, Leaf could only think of what he should have said to the previous question. And he came up with nothing. He had never been one for witty comebacks. _I should have said "No, but I think I can outlive you." _But it was too late to say that now.

He felt something hit the back of his head and he fell forward to his knees. He could almost feel his brain unattaching itself in his head. Kind of a cool thought, and the last one he ever had.

xxx

"Hand it over," Easha gloated, taking back her money that she had given to Volouth about twenty minutes ago. He reluctantly gave it back to her.

"Oh stop your complaining, you'll get it back eventually," Flamiken consoled him. "So that's six down, if you count the Eight who got blown up. Jo still has the most kills with two. And the tributes are starting to go their separate ways, it'll be over soon. Well, this part at least."

"There will be at least one more," Alidia said, pointing one of the cameras at the boy from Five. He hadn't run when he should have, and now he was about to die. He was trapped. All the Careers had him surrounded now that all the other tributes had scattered into the maze. He was the last one.

"Bets that Neo will die within two minutes?" Volouth asked Easha.

"I say it's going to be more like five minutes," Wendetta said."

"Less than a minute," Flamiken added.

Alidia rolled her eyes. "Well, I bet that it will be Castiel to kill Neo."

That started a whole new slew of betting between the Gamemakers. The clock was ticking down, and Neo had to die within forty seconds for Flamiken to win. If it was Zep to kill Neo, Flamiken would win double.

Neo wasn't that interesting as he didn't do anything to try and get him out of his situation. He just stood there with blank staring eyes, waiting for his fate to be handed to him. Now if he had some chemicals, he might be able to get out of his current predicament. But that wasn't the case.

"Thirty seconds," Alidia pointed out.

"I say we keep him around," Pontus said, "for entertainment, you know?"

"He might be useful," Tory said, rubbing her head. There was dried blood all over her, and it wasn't all hers either. She didn't seem to care too much. She was fully in Career mood. It hadn't taken her long to transform. Flamiken loved watching the tributes transform from sweet little things to killers. It was her favorite part. Especially the ones who took forever to transform. The ones who proclaimed they'd never go crazy, that they would be free of any killing. They always broke.

"Naw, he's dead weight, get rid of him," Castiel spoke up.

"I'll do the honors!" Tallulah was only too happy to step up to the plate. "Besides, I want the most kills so I get that prize that Gamemaker promised."

Flamiken was impressed. Tallulah sure was determined. And she had good reason to be. It was a good prize that she had picked out. And right now it was going to be going to Jo.

"What if there's a tie? Who does the prize go to?"

"I didn't think that far ahead," Flamiken shrugged, "I don't think it'll happen though. Looks like little miss Victory wants to prove herself a worthy Career."

And with three seconds left for Flamiken to win the bet, Tory rushed forward and in one fluid sweep, slashed a knife cleanly through Neo's jugular.

"I win!" Flamiken gloated. "Well, time wise. Wendetta wins Neo's killer bet."

It was Wendetta's first win, and she accepted it gladly. There was only one thing worse than Wendetta talking, and that was Wendetta gloating and screaming happily.

xxx

"Well that was a bust," Tallulah grumbled as she collapsed on the ground, blood and sweat glistened on her cheeks. She grimaced at the small amount of bodies that littered the ground

"You should have killed more. One? I thought you were better than that?" Tory quipped.

"Well at least I wasn't lying unconscious on the ground." Tallulah shot back. "And I would have gotten two kills if it wasn't for you rushing to get the glory."

Tory flipped back her head."You're just jealous that I was faster than you."

"Quit it you two, there's work to be done."

"So?"

"So we should probably set up camp before it gets dark," Castiel said broodily, jerking his head to the west where the sun was beginning to set. The sky was painted with pretty colors, but none of the Careers particularly cared about the sunset. Except the District 4 tributes. Both of their heads were tilted upwards, contemplating. "Zep, go find some firewood, I saw a book of matches in the pile somewhere. Tory, Kendra, gather the food. Tallulah, see if you can find water in there."

"Ooh, look at the one in charge," a voice said sarcastically from behind them. Kendra jumped, startled, but she composed herself quickly. There was no time to show fear. Not in the arena.

"Where have you been Hannah?" Tallulah said accusingly. "Consorting with the enemy? Playing double agent?"

"No, I was looking for water, if you go through the pile, you'll see that the only water bottle that was there has already been wasted by that OCD girl."

"Did you find any?"

"No, none. But if you suck at the corn, you can get some moisture," Hannah dumped out a sack filled with corn. "It's not much, but it's better than nothing. By the way, we should probably move away from the dead bodies so they can get picked up, unless you want to use them as firewood?"

"Burning flesh, sounds delicious," Tallulah said nastily. The Careers and Hannah moved to the edge of the field to allow the hovercrafts to swoop in and remove the six bodies. There was nothing they could do about the Chuck pieces that were lying about.

Hannah got the fire going. After they sucked on the corn to get out the moisture, Hannah put them by the fire to roast them. "Popcorn," she explained. And so they settled in to listen to the popping of corn, satisfied for now.

xxx

"OCD girl?" Flamiken furrowed her eyebrows, "we don't have a tribute with OCD. I know we don't, I've been over their information sheets left and right."

"No, we don't, but we do have a tribute with ADHD who has a twin with OCD," Volouth pointed out, bringing up Chaemelon Bangladesh's information on the big screen. "Identical twins."

"Volouth, follow up on that, figure out what's going on."

"Yes sir!" Volouth saluted Flamiken, and she turned her death glare at him. He just chuckled and tugged at a lock of her hair.

"We'll deliver Jo's prize in the morning. She had the most kills with a grand total of two. I think she'll be happy with what it is," Flamiken went on, ignoring the obnoxious Volouth.

"Yes, it's almost ready to go. Just have to tweak a few bugs," Alidia said with a smile as she looked at the device lovingly.

xxx

Cannons started to echo in the distance. "Blood bath's over," Linden said to no one in particular. Somehow he had gotten out of the bloodbath alive. In fact, he hadn't even gone to the Cornucopia, even though he had seen all sorts of goodies while he stood on his plate for a minute. He had been the first one into the maze, and had taken a right turn, then another right, then went straight. Did he take a left after that? He couldn't remember. So many twists and turns, and he was lost within seconds. He needed a map of this place.

He counted seven cannons all together. One was for the boy who had blown up. Seven was actually a low number. Last year eleven had died within the first three hours. He was rather glad he hadn't been chosen last year, because it had been a very brutal game. He was sure this year would be too. They always were. But it seemed like there were lots of hiding spots around.

He could probably use an alliance, but there was really no good option out there. The only one he would even consider would be Lyrah, or Jo. But Jo made it clear she was on her own, and Lyrah, he had no idea what had happened to her. He didn't know if she was even still alive. He would find out tonight when pictures of the dead were shown.

xxx

Arien was all alone. Once again he had witnessed the death of someone he cared deeply for. Ever since the death of his best friend, Arien had become aloof and closed off. He didn't have any other close friends, and the ones that he did, he managed to drive a wedge in between them. He had made a promise to himself that he would keep his heart safe from getting hurt again. But that promise to himself had been broken as soon as he met Charisma and fell in love with her, in a sisterly sort of way. And now she was gone. The first, well, the second, to die. He hadn't been able to stop it. Now he was out of time, there would be no more making friends, no time to let his heart heal from the pain. He was on his own. And now he wished that he did have a friend he could count on.

He hated the maze. There was no pattern to it. No logical explanation for any of the twists and turns. He was hopelessly lost, and scared and hungry, and so alone. He would do anything to hear his little sister's voice. Well, maybe not, because then that would mean that she was in the arena. And he didn't want that. Ifhe couldn't even protect Charisma, how would he be able to protect himself?

xxx

Acacia hadn't needed to get involved in the fight for supplies at the Cornucopia. She could survive in the maze just fine. So as soon as the gong had sounded, she had fled the scene, her legs flew across the hay field, her heart pumped blood and her lungs screamed. But she was safe, no knives whizzed at her head, no one tried to stop her.

She got to work making a shelter. She wanted a safe haven, somewhere she could hide and not be scared. The corn walls were thick and it was impossible to cut through them to get to the other side.

When her mom was still alive and pregnant with Peony, the two of them had mother and daughter bonding time by taking corn husks and weaving them into dolls. Acacia had a whole collection of them back home in a cedar trunk. She hadn't played with them in ages. She sort of missed playing with them.

She didn't have water to soak the corn husks in, but she'd have to do without that for now. Acacia gathered some husks and went to work weaving them together.

xxx

Jo stopped walking long enough to look up at the sky and listen to the anthem. How she hated that song. It took _forever_ before the song was finally over and they were showing pictures to match the seven cannons hat had rang earlier on in the day. There hadn't been any sense that group of seven, no more deaths had occurred.

The first picture shown was the Five girl. So all the Careers and the Three's had made it. Jo was impressed, a few of those Careers didn't look so "Career" like. The other Five followed. They were a weak District to begin with. But Jo still felt a pang of sadness. The Sixes made it, which shocked her as well. The girl seemed book smart, but not street smart, and the boy, come on! He had a broken foot, couldn't find an easier target then that! The first battle, the blood bath, wasn't about taking out the strong competition, it was getting rid of as many as you could, and that meant the easy weak ones. The Seven's were both safe, which that was good, since she didn't really want to see her picture. The boy from Eight grimaced down at her from the sky. He was the one who had stepped off his plate. She would never know if it had been by accident or on purpose. Did blowing himself up make him a coward, or extremely brave? Then there was the girl from Nine. The youngest tribute of them all. Dead.

The next picture shown was the boy from Eleven. His picture showed a boy with little confidence, a scared smile that was forced, and big ears. He was goofy looking, and now he was dead. It was the next two pictures that really had an effect on her though. The two from Twelves, the two that she had killed. Sure, one had been a mercy killing, but the final breath had come from Jo's hand. Jo hated seeing animals tortured, and the same was true about people. She was going to hunt down that little Eight girl and show Hannah just how painful death could be. Jo shook her head, she shouldn't be thinking like this. Wait, she _had_ to think like this. She wanted to go home, and to go home, she had to join the game.

She had to focus on the Games. Her mother had prevailed, Jo should be able to as well. Her mother's blood ran through her veins, and as much as she hated being like her mom, sometimes it was a good thing.

Jo's stomach rumbled, she reached over to grab the corn that sparkled brown.

* * *

><p>Wow, I haven't written a full-blown, twenty-four tribute bloodbath since Death (the small one I wrote for Freedom with only 8 tributes doesn't count.) <em>It totally counts! <em>Geeze Jace, you scared me, coming back from the dead now, are you? _Technically I'm not even born yet. Give if a few more years._ That's very true. Well, missed you. _No you didn't, you hate me. _Do not Jace. _You do too, that's why you let my darling Janie fall in love with Angelo. _This old argument again...really? It wasn't my fault. _Was too._ You're impossible. _And you're mean. _And you (I'm talking to you, yes you, the reader) should review. _No they shouldn't. Why should they review a mean author who sucks at writing and doesn't reply to their well-thought out reviews. _Yeah, I know, I suck at replying, I mean to, and then I forget, I'll try to be better. _Good. Go team Jace!_

Death will start to happen soon. So please go vote in the poll if you haven't yet, it'll help me decide who to kill. And please review, lack of reviews is depressing me :(

xoxo_Misty_oxox


	24. A Game of Twister

This is just a spoof chapter. But hopefully you'll enjoy it.

* * *

><p>The sun rose early in the morning, tickling the skin of the tributes who had made it to see day 2 in the arena, which just so happened to be seventeen of them alive and well. Although, maybe not so <em>well<em>.

Not all of the tributes were able to sleep during the night. There were only a few alliances established so far, so those without alliances weren't able to get a lot of sleep because they were too worried about watching their own back.

The Career alliance and the District 3 one with Lyrah, had taken turns with the night watch. The Careers had more than double the amount of bodies then the other alliance, so the Careers were able to have two awake at a time, each guarding two of the entrances into the maze. Not that the Careers expected any of the other tributes to be stupid enough to attack the big group in the middle of the night. Not this early on in the games when the Career alliance was still going strong.

Once everyone was up, Castiel got to work ordering around the others. "We'll split up to go hunting," he said, much to the pleasure of the others, "I'll go with Hannah and Tory, and Tallulah, Zep and Pontus can be the other group."

"What about me?" Kendra asked, feeling left out.

"You can stay here and guard," Castiel shrugged, "the stars spoke to me last night and said you'd be a good guard."

Kendra made a face but didn't argue. Instead she stamped her foot as she walked over to the cornucopia.

"Good, now that that's settled, let's go hunting," Castiel said. "Ready the dogs, it's huntin' time."

They whooped as one group headed through the North entrance, and the other group went South.

Pontus hummed to himself to keep from getting bored. Zep found himself singing along, Tallulah walked faster, as if pretending that she wasn't with them. They ran into the boy with the crutches first. He didn't see them, as he was busy picking his nose. Tallulah grinned like a Cheshire cat, grabbing the left crutch from him and poking him in the stomach like a Pillsbury dough boy.

"Hey, that's mine, give it back!" Albacore said, turning around to face Tallulah.

"Whatch'a gonna do about it?" She taunted, tossing the crutch over his head, Pontus caught it, "bop me in the head with the other one."

"That's not a bad idea," Albacore replied, taking the crutch and throwing it. Tallulah ducked at the last moment, and the crutch hit Zep in the head instead, he fell down with a clatter and the sky let out a giant boom.

"I was killed by a crutch?" Zep asked as he joined the other dead tributes in their little tribute heaven. "So unfair."

"_Someone," _said a weedy black haired boy as he tilted his head in the direction of a little girl, "tried to kill me with a tube of toothpaste."

"I was killed by a Sea lion, so don't say anything about unfair," Rex replied, holding out his hand and the two boys shook on it. "It was supposed to be irony since my twin brother's name is Leo."

"That's very true, so where exactly are we? And who is everyone?" The room he was in was filled to the brim with children, and most of them he didn't know, though a few of them looked vaguely familiar.

"Beats me," said a girl surrounded by two boys who looked like they wanted to kill each other. "I'm Janie by the way, and these are my boyfriends, Jace and Angelo."

"Aw, so sweet, so they're boyfriend brothers?" Zep asked, wishing he could take it back when both boys made a movement to kill him. Even though he was already dead, he didn't want to chance it.

A few moments later they were joined by Pontus.

"What happened man?" Zep asked the gay boy.

"Tallulah's mean, she used me as a weapon against crutch boy, and she threw me at him. He'll be joining us soon."

Sure enough, Albacore was the next to show up, and the small room got smaller.

"How's Tallulah?" Zep asked Albacore.

"Seething mad, I managed to break her foot, let's see how she deals with it."

They laughed, the bitch totally deserved a broken foot.

"And I managed to break the crutches too," Albacore added, causing the whole room to break into a fit of laughter.

Meanwhile, back in the arena, Castiel's group had a run-in with Fiver, Lyrah and Cord. Three against three. It wouldn't have been so bad for the Careers if all seven of them were there. But with just three, Fiver, Lyrah and Cord were very formable opponents.

Cord and Lyrah took their fighting stances, Fiver grabbed a piece of corn and began to much on it as if she were at a sporting game.

"Why are you just standing there?" Cord shot at her as he took a punch in the face from Castiel's fist. A bloody tooth knocked Fiver in the face. She wiped it away.

"Just wishing I could do the job for you, sir. I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA! And then a OUU-WA! And I'd kick her, sir. "

"What are you? A talking white bat?" Castiel said, amused.

"What are you, a dead guy trying to kill the royal Panem family?" Fiver said back.

"I didn't know Panem had a _Royal _family," Lyrah said as she launched herself into the air towards Tory. "I did know we had a dictator though."

"Does she ever shut up?" Castiel asked, dodging Lyrah's kick, and causing her to fall to the ground. "You aren't special Six, you're an idiot."

"Only if it's opposite day and idiot really means genius," Lyrah pushed herself up, and jumped on his back, causing Castiel to grunt. "I know that if I grab this section of skin right here-" she squeezed a flab right on his shoulder, "-and squeeze, then I can force you to go right."

Castiel slammed into the corn wall. She used her left hand to slam his head into the wall. And slammed again and again until his breathing slowed and a cannon was heard.

"Oh my Panem!" Hannah squealed, "you just took down the giant!" Her hair was pulled up into a hair tie.

"Do you have tourettes or something?" Fiver asked her, Hannah blushed but didn't try to defend herself.

"You know, I think she does," Tory joined in on the conversation.

"Oh nobody asked you," Fiver shot at her. Tory's eyes went huge.

"Oh it's on number girl, it's on."

The two girls circled each other with the other's watching. While Tory was busy kicking Fiver's ass, none of them noticed Hannah letting her hair down. Which none of the tributes had figured out that when Hannah's hair was down, they had better watch out for her.

Up in tribute heaven, that fact hadn't slipped by them. They watched intrigued as Hannah turned into a wild Amazon woman and took Cord down faster than a cat fell asleep. Cord wound up in tribute Heaven, confused as to what happened.

"You're dead man, welcome to paradise though," Pontus said, sweeping his head around a room that was very far from being paradise. The walls were bare, and drab, as gray as Alaska in the winter time. "Don't worry, I'm working on getting this place cleaned up, but there's an all you can eat popcorn bar here, any flavor you want."

"Here, take a bowl," a tribute that Cord didn't recognize handed him one. "It's old bay flavored, it's a seasoning from old Panem, but it's delicious. I'm Nat by the way."

"Nat?"

"Yeah, I'm Lyrah's future niece."

"Future niece?"

"Do you only ask stupid questions?" Nat rolled her eyes, "Yeah, future niece. Apparently the 52nd games, the one I died in, was written before the 33rd games. So I'm here watching my Aunt, who I know dies, because my dad used to talk about her."

Lyrah was the next one to join them. "Damn Tory. I jumped in the middle of the fight to save Fiver, and what do I get for my troubles, a spear in the back."

"Aunt Lyrah?" Nat asked, tears in her eyes. Lyrah gave her a weird look.

"Huh? Aunt Lyrah? Who the fuck are you? And when did one of my siblings have a child? Especially one that looks a year or two older then I am."

"I'm Dally's daughter," Nat explained, "his oldest, he had six children all together. Me, then Shyla, Colt, Delaney, and the twins Tori and Tisha. Of course, only Colt and Delaney made it past their eighteenth birthday. Only Delaney had a happy ending."

"Who said my name?" Tory asked as she joined them in the room, and interrupting their conversation.

"Why do you always assume everyone's always talking about you? No one cares," Nat said, her and Lyrah shared a high five.

"You're an awesome niece."

"I know."

Back in the arena, Hannah and Fiver were now locked in a fight, Hannah's hair whipped around her face, Fiver never took her eyes off of Hannah, they didn't trust each other.

"I'm better then you Fever," Hannah growled.

"It's Fiver," Fiver shot back, "and you'll never be better then I am, Heather."

"Heather? What, and that makes you Veronica, do you wish me dead? Gonna cover up my death as a suicide?"

"Nope, everyone is going to know that I killed you, fair and square."

And with a square block that seemingly came out of nowhere, Fiver hit Hannah over the head. Not that it did any good, because Hannah died, but that just gave Sarah full access to Hannah's body.

"Why won't you die?" Fiver screamed as she slammed the block again and again. Eventually she did, and Fiver found herself alone.

Tallulah however, was stalking around the maze, trying to find herself a good fight. She ran into Acacia first.

Acacia's cannon rang out a few seconds later, and she woke up with the other dead tributes.

"Welcome to the afterlife Acacia, an all you can eat buffet of popcorn."

"Better then olives," she replied, stuffing her face and scarfing it down without breathing. "So much better."

The next on Tallulah's hit list was Arien. "So, what is the one way you don't want to die?" She asked him. Arien didn't even have to think about it before he answered with drowning. Tallulah grinned, and a bucket of water magically appeared. "I'm liking this whole thing of getting exactly what I wish for."

She grabbed his head and squeezed it into the bucket, ignoring his kicking and sputtering before he finally stilled and his cannon went off. Arien was sent off to the dead tributes room where Charisma gave him a smile that he had desperately missed. One more down. Tallulah was on a roll. She found Linden next.

"Do you want to go join the rest of your family in death? Cause I'm going to make that happen whether you wish to or not."

"You're not as special as you like to think," Linden said.

"Oh, so you do talk, that's amazing, though, I rather liked it better when you didn't. Didn't your mother ever teach you that children should be dead and not seen or heard."

"I bet your parents wished you were just a stain on their sheets," Linden shot back.

"OOH, you've got some bark after all, but how's your bite?"

"Woof, woof," Linden barked, causing Tallulah to smirk.

"Sorry tree bark, but your life is about to end."

Tallulah was always true to her word, and she didn't shed a tear as Linden slowly slid into death, and she went looking for her next victim which turned out to be Chameleon.

"Actually, my name is Cataria, I took my twin sister's place."

"You probably shouldn't have said anything, not that it really matters anyway since I'm going to kill you."

"Just be sure to stab me ten times" Cat replied. It only turned out to be nine times before Cat died and she ended up in a very crowded room that caused her to shiver and want to take a shower.

"Here's a snuggy," someone she didn't know handed her a stupid looking robe.

"Isn't it just a blanket?" Cat asked.

"Yes, but better," the strange person answered. "It keeps you warm while you change the channel or read a book, they even have one for your pets now!"

"Wow, these are some fast games. Only five left. Panem is going to be pissed," Autumn from the 52nd games said as she wrapped her arm around her little sister Myrrah. "Who does everyone want to win."

"Roan!" Seth said, "he's like awesome, he's my idol, seriously, I should have taken stalking lessons from him, Nyx never would have gotten away from me if I learned from him."

"Did someone say my name?" Roan asked as he joined them. "Jeeze, I didn't realize Kendra was that pissed off about me, she has a strong right hook."

"You're like a sex god," Seth said, looking like he was about to piss his pants off. "I can't believe I'm finally meeting you in person."

"Here's a tip, don't go after the crazy ones."

"I'm not crazy!" Cat objected. "You're just a fucking bastard."

"Shut up and watch the rest of the games, only four left."

"Jingle bells, Batman smells, Robin laid an egg, bat mobile lost its wheel and Joker played ballet," Pontus sang.

"Batman's in the kitchen, Robin's in the hall, and Joker's in the bathroom, peeing on the wall," Lyrah added.

"You two make a very cute couple," Roan said sarcastically.

"I know, right!" Lyrah said, as she pulled Pontus close and gave him a kiss on his lips.

"Eww," he said, wiping his mouth clean from her slobber, "you're totally not my type Lyrah, now Zep on the other hand-"

Zep didn't have a chance to object before he found himself in Pontus' arms. Not that he would have objected anyway. He was still young enough where he wanted to experiment. And he even went back for seconds.

"You're going to turn me gay," Zep said to Pontus. Smiling happily. "Cause I really want to do that again."

Pontus grinned, "that would be such a shame, wouldn't it?"

"I'd be sad to lose him as a boyfriend candidate," Lyrah said.

"He's not your type," Nat assured her. "I think Linden's more your type, besides, he's Autumn's and Myrrah's future uncle. I'd love to be related to them, they're awesome."

"Thanks, you're kinda awesome too, and you didn't kill me when you had all those chances."

"Um guys, fight in the arena," Myrrah pointed out. All eyes turned to the screen.

All four tributes left were now in the cornucopia field. All alliances were ended.

"Hey, they never did a final eight segment with the families," Tess pointed out.

"It's because they never had time, it happened so fast," Romy said.

"My world is getting very big, lots of friends," Silas said.

"What's wrong with him?" Cat asked.

"Oh, he thinks this whole world is his creation, he's very funny though, you two would get along swell," Roan said as if he already knew everything about Silas.

"Bastard," Cat muttered under her breath. "I hope you die a terrible and fiery death."

"I'm already dead sweetheart."

"Don't call me that dick. I'm not your sweetheart."

"I never said you were," Roan pointed out.

"Seriously, final fight," Myrrah repeated.

Limbs were flying through the air. Punches were landing on skin and crushing bones. Jo got the first major injury but she didn't let it stop her from landing a kick in Kendra's chest. "Did the stars write that," Jo taunted. "Your right boob is a little lopsided now, it fits you."

Kendra screeched and ran at Jo full speed.

Jo took her ax and brought it down on Kendra's head, easily splitting her in two, and causing her inners to be exposed.

"I wonder if only half of Kendra will show up?" Roan said, "hopefully it's her left half, that was always her better side."

Cat shivered. Even in death she hated the left side. Roan grinned and turned back to the screen where the final three were locked in an epic battle of twister. Seriously, a twister map had magically appeared in the arena. The arrow spinner appeared in the tribute heaven. Janie took it and spun, it landed on left hand red. All three tributes left were forced to put their left hand on red. And so it went on like that. The spinner was passed around the room and the three tributes got all twisted around. Tallulah was the first to fall. She disappeared from the game mat.

"I died because I was the first to fall? How unfair is that?"

"SHHHH!" The rest of the tributes shushed her. Jo and Fiver were the last two standing. They just stood there, frozen in spot and unable to move. "Why aren't they fighting?"

"They can't," Janie said, pointing at a voting pad that had just showed up in the room. "It's up to us, we have to vote who dies next."

Sure enough there were one post-it pad with sheets for everyone, two names on each post-it. Janie ripped off the post-its and handed them around the room. They all ticked off a name, and then the papers disappeared in a puff of light.

Both Fiver and Jo disappeared at the same time. It had been a tie. Neither of them won.

"Well that was totally unfair, I could have taken her on and won!" Fiver complained as she sat next to Cord in a huff. "But good effort Jo."

"Why thank you, you too," Jo said, and they shook hands.

Zep and Pontus were over in the corner locking lips, much to the displeasure of the other tributes. "Anyone want to have a threesome with us?"

"Sure, why not?" Roan said, walking over to them. "In fact, we should just have an orgy."

I'll let your imaginations do the rest of the work.

* * *

><p>And this is what is going to happen if you don't start reviewing! I have the real chapter written and it's ready to post. But I don't know, reviews have slowed down. And is it really worth it to keep writing? I'm doing this for fun, but I still want feedback from everyone. I want to know that you appreciate the story and that you want to read more. So please review, and you'll get the real chapter. I know a few of you are reviewing every chapter, and thank you so much. But when the majority of reviews are coming from people who don't even have tributes in this game, I know I have a problem. Although, those without tributes can keep reviewing!<p>

Besides, this was a fun spoof chapter, so I'm sure you don't mind a break from the real chapters! And just to let you know, this chapter did not give away anything that I have planned for this story. This was all in good fun. But if you really want to know what happens, please review, or we'll just end this story right here.

*Misty*


	25. Corn Shapped Bruises

Sorry...this isn't another spoof chapter :(

This is the real chapter.

Happy reading

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><p>Jo barely slept a wink that night. Instead, she leaned up against one of the maze walls and listened to the sounds of the wild. She could hear owls hooting in the distance. There was one to the left that sounded like a horned owl. Not to mention the rats and mice that were scuttling around. Their little paws didn't bother her. It was almost as if she was home, camping outside in the woods.<p>

But it was freezing. There was a fierce wind that she wasn't used to, and it bit at her face. She wouldn't be surprised if her lips and fingertips were blue. Oh, what she would do for a fire. With all the dried corn stalks, there was ample fuel for a fire. But it would also be a surefire way for the Careers to find her, assuming they could find their way through the maze. Jo needed to figure out how to navigate the maze without getting lost. It wouldn't be wise to get stuck in a dead end with no way to escape. She'd have to mark the paths with all the dead ends.

Just as she was trying to figure out what she could use to mark the arena, a silver parachute fell down next to her.

Since she was the daughter of a victor, Jo's mother had the money to buy presents for birthdays and special occasions. They were always wrapped with red ribbon and tied with a nice bow as a flourish. And there was always a card to accompany it. Jo usually went straight for the present, as she didn't have the patience to read the card first. Besides, the card usually had some stupid emotional sentence on it. Roma didn't convey her feelings well in person, but she loved her cards. Jo didn't.

This time she felt that she had better read the card first. Why was she getting a present so early anyway? It was only the second day of the Games. She didn't need anything yet.

"_Congratulations on your two kills Joliet. As promised, here is your prize for having the most kills during the first battle. Hopefully, this will help you get many more. Good luck. Sincerely, The Gamemakers."_

Jo had forgotten about that. She didn't realize that she had won, but hey, a gift was a gift. It was rather heavy and very bulky. Not that practical for having to be on the run. It was probably some junk item that she'd end up tossing anyway. She undid the silver ribbon and unwrapped the prize.

It was unlike anything she had ever held before, the type of thing only seen on television commercials. It was square in shape, black rimmed with a screen. She found the power button and the screen lit up.

"What the?" She muttered as she tried to figure out what to do with it. There was only one button, the power one. She ran her finger across the screen and it moved. There were names on the screen, some still, some moving. They were all in different colors. She found her name in brown, it was on the lower edge of the screen. It was a map! A map that showed all the twists and turns of the maze, and where all the tributes were located.

The map was worth what she had done to get it. She found the names of the Careers. Victory was in red, the purple was Zephyr's name. Yellow and green were for the Two's. Jo wasn't that shocked when she saw Hannah's name in a maroon color next to one in rainbow. Hannah had been somewhat awesome during the training. Roan's name wasn't there.

Jo didn't like the looks of the Career group. None of them had died, and there were seven of them. It was a strong group.

The other big alliance was the District Three tributes along with Lyrah from Six. Weird, Jo would have thought that Lyrah would be with either Linden or Pontus. Lyrah had been making eyes at Linden and been playing buddy-buddy with Pontus. Jo couldn't stand other girls most of the time. They were North of the cornucopia. For the most part, the tributes were all distributed evenly throughout the arena. Roan's name was closest to her, but he was moving away. Jo was safe, and now that she had the map, she was way ahead of the others.

There was no charger for it though, and she doubted that the battery would last forever. She hit the power button and stowed the map away. No one would be out tonight, so it would be okay to take a little bit of a nap. She wondered if there was a way to put the map on an alarm system so it would beep if any of the other tributes got within so many feet of her. She turned it back on and tried to play with it, but she couldn't figure it out. The only things she could do were zoom in, zoom out and move the map, as well as turn it on and off.

So Jo turned it off and closed her eyes. The sounds of the wild soothed her to sleep.

xxx

Lyrah had the morning watch. She was so glad that she had found an alliance to join with. They were very necessary in the beginning of the games. With all these tributes still in play, it was dangerous to be alone, especially since the Careers were such a big group. Although she was wary of most of them, the Careers this year didn't seem too dangerous. Not like what she has seen the past few years. A rift in the Career group was good, though. And not all of them were bad. She really did like Pontus. He was entertaining, and every girl needed a gay friend. They were the best type to have.

After the seven photos had been shown, the arena settled down for the night. Everyone was exhausted and just wanted their rest. Fiver had taken first watch while Lyrah and Cord had used the outer leaves of the corn husks as bedding. It was freezing, but luckily the high walls of corn blocked the biting wind.

It hadn't taken Lyrah long to fall asleep, though several times she was woken up by animal noises in the distance, and a few times by Cord. He kicked in his sleep. Cord woke her up around dawn, and she was able to see the sunrise for the first time in ages.

And now she was formulating her plan while the other two slept. It was entertaining being with those two, and even in their sleep they didn't stop with the antics. Every time Cord _accidently_ kicked Fiver, she'd sleep smack. And whenever Fiver snored, Cord would kick her, and then she'd smack him, and then she'd snore. It was a never ending cycle. Like that song she liked to sing to annoy her mother back home.

"These are the chores that never end, they just go on and on my friend, some people started doing them, not knowing what they were, and they'll just keep on doing them forever just because…" She'd change the word "chores" depending on what she was doing, "These are the dishes that never end…" her favorite one was "this is the homework that never ends…" And her mother's least favorite was "this is the fart that never ends…"

Lyrah was willing to bet her life that her mother missed that song. And so Lyrah decided to sing it for her mother, complete with sounds. Oh, her mother would be so proud. Lyrah grinned and waved, she was almost certain there was a camera on her.

"What the fuc-fudge?" Fiver said sleepily, turning her curse word into a yummy food upon being kicked by Cord.

"You really need to watch your tongue. It's not lady-like."

"Who said I wanted to be a lady?" Fiver shot back. Lyrah grinned. It was just like being at home with her siblings. And the best part, there was no mom around to chastise them and put them in time-out. Well…put Lyrah in timeout. Natalie never got in trouble, and Dally was smart enough to sweet talk mom out of it.

"Good morning," Lyrah said, "how was your sleep?"

"I think I have bruises from sleeping on corn or something," Fiver complained.

"What about you Cord. Do you have any _corn_ bruises?" Lyrah asked sweetly.

He looked down at his body and saw some black marks emerging.

"Too bad this wasn't a feather maze instead," Fiver said, pushing herself up. "So what's the plan for today? Running around naked? Influxuating the Career camp?"

"I think you mean infiltrating," Lyrah corrected.

Fiver rolled her eyes. "Yes, that's what I said."

"You know, you're not stuck up like I thought you'd be," Cord piped in, breaking off a piece of corn from the stalk. "Most smart people, like the genius ones, they're stuck up and snobby and think they walk on water."

"First off, I can walk on water. Second off, I know exactly what you mean. That's how most of the people in Six are. We have the highest percentage of geniuses. Trust me, it's not fun having to compete with everyone to get the best grade. I know a lot of big words, but at home, there's no point in using them, because someone else will just out-word me."

"Sounds exhausting," Cord said as he fumbled with the corn. "Are the corn kernels supposed to be this color?"

"Corn can be many colors. White, yellow, a mix of red, brown and orange. It's fine," Lyrah grabbed her own piece. "There's still some moisture in here. I'd suck it out if I were you. It doesn't look like there's another water source around here."

The three of them sucked on some corn cobs and ate the kernels. "It'd be much better if we had a pot and water to boil them, or a fire to roast them, and some salt and pepper to season them with."

"You seem to know a lot about food," Cord pointed out.

"Everyone needs a hobby, and cooking just happens to be mine. My dream is to open up my own restaurant and serve delicious meals."

None of them pointed out that Lyrah would probably never see her dream come true. They fell into silence as they all realized their dreams were pretty much shot to hell now.

xxx

Cat woke up suddenly, confused as to where she was. She had no idea what had happened, and she had a killer headache. Her whole body was stiff, and it seemed very bright and cold out. Where was her soft bed and feather pillows that she had worked so hard to be able to buy? In fact, she had practically stuffed them herself. They meant a lot to her, and she was upset that they weren't under her head.

"Hello Tributes. Congratulations to those of you who made it to the second day."

All of a sudden, it all came back to her. Cat was a tribute in the thirty-third games and she had to fight and kill other innocent children to go home. Just yesterday a boy had exploded and rained all over her. And now she was lying on the ground, with corn ears sticking into her back and straw littering her hair. She'd kill all the tributes for a shower.

The voice continued on, "Joliet Richemont from District 7 had the most kills yesterday with the deaths of the District Twelve tributes. She has gotten something very handy as a prize. I won't spoil it by telling you what she received, but it'll be helpful to anyone who gets their hands on it."

Cat was glad she hadn't gotten the prize. The voice in the air had just signaled Jo out, and now everyone would be after her trying to get what she had. Not Cat, though.

"And it has also been brought to attention that there is an imposter in the arena."

Cat gulped as the words pierced her ears and she was able to comprehend what they meant. She was the imposter! Oh no! She knew it had been a mistake to run up to the stage in place of her sister. And she still couldn't figure out what had compelled her to do it in the first place. And now they had found out. She was frozen in fear, anxious to find out the consequence of her actions, yet, dreading it at the same time.

"Chameleon Bangladesh is not who she says she is, instead, the girl in the arena is Chameleon's identical twin sister Cataria."

Cat could just imagine the shock on everyone's faces at that realization. They probably weren't happy that they had been tricked. Cat was screwed, completely and utterly fucked. Worse than when Roan had taken her to bed.

Roan! That reminded her, he had saved her. Why? She hated his guts, and he knew that. He had probably done that just to mess with Cat's head. He really liked playing with people's minds and confusing them. That jerk. She doubted that he'd save her again. He was more of a "once it's okay, twice it's boring," type of guy. Once he conquered something (more likely someone) then he moved on and went to his next challenge.

"So, as a remedy, the real Chameleon will be joining in on all the fun."

Cat's eyes went huge. _No!_ That was the whole reason why she had ran up to that stage in her sister's place, to keep Cham safe. And now she was being told that all her efforts were for naught and Cham was coming into the arena anyway. Shit, shit. She repeated the word eight more times just to make it an even ten.

"Good luck Chameleon and Cataria and all the other tributes." The last part was tacked on the end at the last moment. The voice disappeared and Cat fully freaked out. Where were they going to drop Cham in? How would Cat find her twin sister? This wasn't good at all.

"CHAM!" She shouted, not caring if anyone heard it, as it would be difficult to find her in this mess of a maze anyway. "WHERE ARE YOU, CHAM?" There was no answer. Not that she had expected any, though it would have been nice. She would find her sister though, if it was the last thing she did.

Cat and Cham were twins, and sometimes it was almost as if they could read each other's minds, but that was just because they knew each other so well. They were not telepathic and couldn't communicate with each other from a distance. But when they were together, Cat could read Cham's expressions and body language. So Cat closed her eyes and tried to think like Cham. WWHSD? What would her sister do? Cham wouldn't stay still. She'd be searching for Cat. Cat hated the left, and Cham knew that. Cham would be taking right turns to find Cat. So Cat had to take left turns. Her right eye twitched at the thought.

"I have to do it," she told herself sternly. "See, this isn't so bad," she tried to reassure herself as she took the first left turn that she came too, but her heart began to beat faster and Cat's breathing quickened. No, it was impossible, she couldn't do it. Left was evil. Cham had to know that Cat wouldn't want to take any left turns, and would only take right. She had to be smart enough to know that if Cat was taking right turns, then Cham needed to take left. Cat mentally slapped herself for being so stupid. She retraced her steps and took the right turn, breathing a sigh of relief as her breathing went back to normal.

Cat suddenly stilled, cocking her head to the right and listening intently. She had heard something. That much she was almost certain of. She just didn't know what it was that she had heard. It wasn't Cham, though. That much was clear. Cham was lighter on her feet. Plus, it seemed like there were multiple people. Cat had paid attention to the alliances. She was good at picking out the smallest of details. There was only one other alliance besides the Careers, and that was between the District Three tributes. They were close, maybe only a few turns away. There was a third voice that Cat was positive belonged to the District 6 girl, Lyrah Henley. Cat wouldn't have worried if it was just one of them, but with three of them? Cat hoped that they wouldn't turn her way. Hopefully they liked left turns, even though it was an evil direction. She had to count to ten just to rid herself of the bad juju.

"I _knew_ they weren't corn shaped bruises, Jeeze Cord, stop hitting me, I'll file for alliance divorce," the Three girl, Fiver, though Cat preferred to call her Tener, wasn't even trying to keep her voice down. Cat took another right turn, and Tener's loud voice began to fade away. Cat let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't long before she came to another fork, and there she was, an identical prison shirt on. Then she noticed the difference. Instead of dark blonde shaggy hair, there was nothing.

"Your hair," Cat breathed, running her hand over Cham's bald head. It was soft yet prickly at the same time. Cat hardly recognized her sister without the hair. "Oh Cham, what did they do to you?" And deep down, Cat was asking herself _what did I do to you?_ Because this was all Cat's fault. And now Cham was going to die. Cat was never going to forgive herself for that. Cham was the most important person in her life.

"You're okay, right?" Cham asked, ignoring Cat's questions and sweeping her into a hug. "I missed you so much. I was so worried about you."

"Cham, you shouldn't be here. This isn't right."

"You're right, it's not. But I'm here now, and we're going to be okay. Now stop crying. Your tears are trickling down your face and making a dirt line."

Cat gave a half smile. As much as she hated seeing her sister in the arena, she was glad to have her around. Yet, at least one, possibly both, of them were going to die. And only their little sister, Mink, would miss them. Their parents were probably thrilled that the twins were in the arena and now they only had to deal with Mink.

"I love you, Cat, and this isn't your fault. Now stop beating yourself up about it. And my hair will grow back, so stop staring!" Cham laughed as she pulled Cat through the maze, making only right turns. And for just a moment, life was back to normal for the twins.

* * *

><p>*GASP* Who saw that coming?<p>

I know, that was a very girly chapter. Next chapter we'll focus on some of the boys. I'm thinking Zep and Linden are due for a pov. Who else do you really want to hear from? Have your thoughts about any of the tributes changed? One you hated, you now love and vice versa? Give me some feedback, let me know what you think! I really like reviews.

-Misty+++++++++


	26. Like Stealing Candy From A Baby

Day 2 continued…

ZZZ

"I want what Joliet has," Tallulah's very annoying voice said from the Cornucopia where she was running a brush through her hair, using the blade of a sword as a mirror. "I don't care what it is, but I want it."

"We'll get it," Castiel assured her, "but first we need to set some ground rules."

Tallulah rolled her eyes. It was clear to Zep that she was not happy with Castiel taking over. Zep unintentionally ran his pointer finger across the scar on his cheek. It was usually covered by his hair, but the stupid prep team had cut his hair, so now it wasn't long enough, and everyone had a clear view of his scar. How he got it wasn't important, it was the fact that he still had it that was.

He paced back and forth in front of the North entrance to the maze. Now that it was the middle of the day, they were on full alert, and each entrance was being guarded. Pontus was making silly faces at him from the South entrance, Tory was to the West, and Kendra to the East. Castiel was tinkering with the walkie-talkies that they had found in the pile and trying to get them to work.

"Yes, we need to start acting like a group. Otherwise, we'll all be dead within days. So we need to set some boundaries."

"I wouldn't mind if you were dead within moments," Tallulah whispered loudly enough for them all to hear her.

Zep sighed. It was only day two, but Tallulah was already getting on his last nerve. She was just so cocky and full of herself. He couldn't wait to see her fail. Like that saying, _it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. _At least, that was the grownup version, the kid version was to add _and then it's hilarious_ to the end, which pissed off most of the adults. Why was it that as children, people were less stuck up and stuffy? As a kid, it was pretty much fun and partying. Unless one was reaped for the Games. Then fun time was over.

"-And if Mr. Angsty over here finally decides to get his head out of his ass, we can get started," the nasally voice of Castiel said, jolting Zep back to the group. Castiel was holding a walkie in each hand they seemed to be working. At least, that's why there was a weird buzz coming from them, right?

"He's not angsty," Pontus jumped in to defend Zep, as if Zep needed defending! He was perfectly fine with taking care of himself. However, since it was Pontus, Zep was willing to let that slide. Pontus never met any harm, and Zep actually liked the gay dude from Four. He was the only other Career that Zep could stand. "He's mysterious," Ponuts added with a lopsided grin that made Zep laugh. Pontus was like an overgrown puppy dog or a cuddly teddy bear. "Just because he doesn't talk much doesn't mean there's nothing in there." Pontus rapped on the top of Zep's head.

"Ouch! Careful, that hurt!" Zep complained, rubbing his head where a bump would probably start to form.

"D'aw," Tallulah said sarcastically, "do you want a kiss to make it all better?"

"Not from you," Zep shot back at her.

"I'll be happy to oblige," Pontus said, leaning over. Zep didn't move fast enough, so Pontus' lips fell onto Zep's black hair with purple tips. Zep almost expected Pontus to pull away and have purple lips. Zep grinned at the thought.

"Are you two love birds done yet?" Castiel sneered. "Good. Let's go." They all stood and began to walk in different directions. Castiel sighed and muttered something under his breath. "Okay, Kendra will stay here and guard. The rest of us will break up. I think the biggest alliance out there is the District 3 pair."

"-Actually," Pontus interrupted, "Lyrah joined up with them, so there's three of them now, not two."

"Still, I think it's safe for us to split up into two groups of three. I'll go with Tory and Pontus. Zep, Tallulah and Hannah can be the other group. Here," Castiel tossed one of the walkies in Tallulah's direction. She fumbled for it, but managed to catch it.

"Oh, goody," Zep muttered. "Do I really have to go with her?"

"I don't want to babysit him," she shrieked back.

"That's enough you two. We're Careers, so start acting like it." Castiel shook his head as he motioned for Tory and Pontus to follow him. Pontus glanced over his shoulder at Zep and gave a little wave. Zep shook his head, but secretly, he was blushing. And then he was kicking himself for blushing. Geeze, he was a straight guy…wasn't he? He liked to watch the girls as they walked down the street in front of him, their butts swaying in the wind with each step. He had rated girls from one to ten, and had even gone out on a few dates. Granted, he had been forced to go out on the dates, but still, he had gone out. So why couldn't he get Pontus out of his head?

"Let's get going. I want to find the Seven girl and get whatever it is that she got as a prize," Tallulah said impatiently, ducking into the maze, walkie in hand. Zep hadn't been in the maze yet, but it looked dark and dirty. And was that a spider? "Come on Zep," Tallulah wheezed. Hannah was right behind Tallulah. Her golden hair was let loose in ringlets. During the week at the Capitol, her hair had both been up in a bun and let loose, but since being in the arena, he hadn't seen it up in a bun once. She was muttering to herself. And he thought that _he_ was emo. Hannah took _emo_ to a whole new extreme. Tallulah took a sharp turn to the left, and Zep shrieked as a giant spider web came into view, with the spider sitting primly in the middle.

"Oh come on!" Tallulah groaned and rolled her eyes at his girly shriek. "It's just a spider. Ugh, you're such a girl." Tallulah bent down to grab a corn cob and threw it at the spider. It was a direct hit, but the spider didn't seem fazed at all. Instead, it clicked his pinchers. Zep could have sworn it was saying _I'm going to eat you._

Hannah's hair was suddenly in a bun. Zep hadn't even seen her twist it up. She screamed and practically curled up into a little ball at Zep's feet.

"Let's get out of here," Tallulah said, slowly backing away, keeping her eyes on the spider at all times. They pulled Hannah up and slowly inched back down the path. "Remember where that spider is," Tallulah ordered Castiel as they were finally out of its sight. "It might come in handy later."

Yeah, for when she wanted to throw him at the spider. Zep doubted he'd be able to NOT remember where the spider was, though. "It was so big, and I swear, it was talking to me." Zep complained.

"Shut up," Tallulah hissed, "you're going to alert everyone to our whereabouts."

Walking through the maze was harder than Zep had thought it would be. Before they rounded a new turn, Zep wondered what kind of bug was waiting for them. So far, they hadn't run into anything other than that massive spider. But they were hopelessly lost and turned around.

"Tallulah. Come in, Tallulah," Castiel's voice seemed even stranger through the garbled microphone on the walkie. "Over."

"Go ahead, Castiel. Over." Tallulah responded.

"Have you found anything or anyone? Over."

"Just a giant spider. Tell Pontus that the spider seemed to take a liking towards Zep. Over."

"Oh darn it, I better up my game play then," Pontus joked.

"You forgot to say 'over,'" Castiel scolded him. "Anyway, there's nothing over here. This maze is endless. We're hitting dead end after dead end. I say we head back to camp and come up with a way to flush the tributes to us. Over."

"Whatever." Tallulah spat, forgetting to end the conversation with "over." She cursed. Obviously, she didn't want to end the hunt. Zep was so sick of her. She was such a drama queen. She clipped the walkie to her pants, her brow furrowed up as she thought. Zep thought that she looked like a rotten tomato. "Well, you heard the _boss. _Let's head back." She came to a fork. "Which way is it back to the Cornucopia?" She asked them.

"Left," Hannah said softly.

"Okay then, let's go right." Tallulah spun to the right, "we'll just take our sweet time going back there. What Castiel doesn't know won't hurt him."

"Quiet," Zep whispered, "I think I hear something."

All of a sudden, Hannah's hair went down, and she twisted, baring her teeth and going into action mode. Zep was impressed by her sudden change. She charged down one of the paths, and Tallulah and Zep hurried after her, following the screams. They came to a sudden stop when they saw the other three Careers. Tallulah grinned when she saw who they had pinned. Joliet, the girl from Seven was caught, three Careers in one direction, three Careers in the other. No way to escape.

"Awesome," Tallulah breathed as she went over to the girl. "Give it up."

"Give what up?" Jo asked innocently, her eyes dancing about widely looking for a way out. There was something in her hand that she was gripping so hard that her knuckles were white.

"You know exactly what I mean," Tallulah said, her tone going cold. "I want that prize that you stole from me." She took a step closer to Joliet. On the other side, Castiel and his crew stepped closer too. It was like an epic game of monkey in the middle. Zep saw Castiel make a silent sign at them, and he wondered what Castiel was trying to communicate. Tallulah must have figured it out, because with a war cry that would make any dictator proud, she and Castiel rushed at Joliet. Joliet stood there for a few moments, before crushing her back to the wall of corn, making herself skinny as to avoid being crushed by Castiel and Tallulah. Instead, the pair from Two ran directly into each other. Crash and burn. Zep had to hold back a laugh.

Joliet took that split second of confusion to try and make a break for it. But it was still just her, surrounded by Careers. Tallulah, still on the ground, stuck out her foot and tripped Joliet. With an "umpf," Joliet went down flat on her face, but she was quick and back up to her feet in seconds. Her hands were balled into fists, and she looked ready to rumble. Tallulah, angry that Joliet was still alive, screamed and jumped on Jo's back, pulling at her hair. Joliet turned in a circle and rammed her back into the wall, trying to knock Tallulah off. While she was busy with that, Castiel grabbed his spear and rammed it into her stomach. She cried out as she stumbled into the corn wall again, crushing Tallulah.

"You deserve worse than death," Joliet said quietly as she looked down at her bleeding stomach. Her pleading eyes roamed around. She tried to stand up, tried to push herself up off the ground. Her legs flailed about, trying to kick someone.

"You may have put Twelve out of her misery, but no one will put you out of yours," Tallulah said as she pushed herself away from Joliet. She grabbed the black object that Joliet had dropped next to her. "And what do we have here?"

Joliet watched silently, refusing to talk. Zep could tell that she was in pain, and he had the strongest urge to break her bones and see just how far he could push her. He was the type of kid that liked to play with flies and pull their wings off and watch them struggle as they realized they couldn't fly anymore. He was the kid that put ants in a water cup and watched them drown. He liked being in control of the animals, and watching them be in pain. That's what they got for coming into his house and trying to bite him.

"It's a map," Tallulah said, poking at the screen. "Look, we're all on here. My name's in yellow! And look, Joliet's name is fading," she laughed evilly, "it keeps flickering. Hmm…why didn't you run if you had the map dearie?"

"Obviously she couldn't, we were both coming at her from opposite sides," Castiel pointed out. "Good thing that happened or we'd probably never find her. Is there anyone else around?"

Tallulah glanced at the screen, her eyes sparkled. "Yes."

LLL

The cannon echoed around the arena, bringing Linden that much closer to the end. He didn't need to wonder who the cannon had been for. He really should have ran as soon as he had heard the voices of the Careers, but instead, he had been stupid and stopped to eavesdrop. Well, curiosity killed the cat, so as soon as he had heard enough, he had left, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the Careers. He walked around the maze, completely lost and unsure of where he was. And the damn Careers had a map! A map that could show them exactly where he was.

There were too many twists and turns, no way to figure out where he was or where he was going without the map, he wished that he could steal it from them. Not that it really mattered where he was now that the Careers had the map. As long as he didn't run into anyone else and stayed far away from the Careers, then he was golden. Although, he really should have an alliance, at least for now. He needed an ally. For once, he had an urge to talk. It was just so lonely out here. Usually at home, there was always so much hustle and bustle going on, and one of his sisters was always chatting up a storm. He really had no opportunity to talk. He didn't have anything important enough to say where he had to fight his sisters for the chance to speak. So he usually kept his mouth shut.

But it was so quiet out, and he wished he had his sisters around talking his ear off. Instead, he had the singing of the birds and the chirps of the crickets. Linden took a right turn. And surprise, surprise, he saw more corn. His stomach rumbled. He was already sick of corn, but he had no time to be picky. At least he had food all around him. He broke off a husk and pulled back the leaves, exposing bright yellow kernels. It was tough and rubbery, and it needed to be cooked. At least it was some nutrition. But his poop was going to be disgusting. Corn was not something that was easily digested.

He rounded another corner, only to be greeted by a sight that no one wanted to see. The Careers were grinning at him, Tallulah was holding something black in her hands. "I'm so glad we got this from Joliet," she said, "it's been so helpful so far."

Linden turned to make a break for it. He had to outrun the Careers. This was not good at all. Something came flying at him, and the knife just barely missed all his vital organs. Instead it stabbed through his shirt, where it was baggy under his armpits. It stuck in a corn wall, pinning him too it. He reached down and pulled it out, but it cost him precious seconds. Someone grabbed him and pulled his arms behind his back in a very uncomfortable position.

"Oh good," Tallulah said happily, "we can eliminate the other half of Seven. That was almost too easy."

Linden fought back a retort. He wanted to tell her that it wasn't wise to say that. It was like when you were having your worst day ever and then saying "well, this can't get any worse," and then it rained. He wasn't dead yet, so he could still get out of it. How, he wasn't sure yet. But there was still a chance.

"You know what, let's keep him," Pontus said, surprising the others. "I'm sure he'll be helpful, won't you Linden?" Pontus turned to Castiel, as if he were a little boy begging his mommy to keep the puppy. Linden tried not to get his hopes up. Not that he really wanted to be with the Careers, but if staying with them for a night or so would save him, so be it.

"We don't need another person in this alliance Pontus," Castiel said. Linden's hopes weren't dashed yet. He could still get out of this mess.

"I don't know. I'm sure he knows something that can help us, right Linden?"

"Y…y…yes," Linden stuttered, he closed his mouth quickly. It had been awhile since he had last stuttered, it was his nervous habit. Accompanied by a little twitch, so he looked like a guy having a seizure. "I'm good with an ax."

"You're from Seven. One would hope you were good with an ax," Tallulah said sardonically. "And that doesn't help us. We're all good with a weapon. We don't need someone who will be of no use. Can you make a bomb? Can you build traps? Can you cook?"

No, no and no. Linden shook his head, and really, he wanted to tell her that two negatives made a positive. He doubted that she was smart enough to understand that though. This wasn't looking good. He needed a miracle. He wasn't going to die. Not right now, not like this. It was only day 2. He _knew_ he could make it further than day 2.

"Can you sing?" Pontus put in. Tallulah glared at him.

"Really? How's that going to help us?"

Linden watched as Tallulah and Pontus started arguing. A plan began to formulate. If they argued long enough, it might give Linden a chance to escape. He slowly shuffled away from the Careers, keeping his eyes on them the whole time. He was going less than one inch every few seconds. Slow enough that they would not notice him until it was too late and he was long gone.

"Singing is good for the soul," Pontus continued with his argument. "It relaxes you, cleanses your body. Makes you feel better. Linden would be a great addition if he can sing like an angel. And then I can have a singing partner."

They were still so focused on the fight, that Linden was just a few inches away. He took a deep breath, and then turned the corner and ran. And ran as fast and as far as his feet could carry him. He had gotten away from the Careers! He had run into them and lived to tell the tale! His family must be so proud of them right now.

He ran until he felt like his lungs were going to burst. He would never be safe in the arena, but at least there were no Careers around. Although, something Tallulah had said was bothering him. She had stolen something from Jo, and they had used that to find him. Which meant it had to be a map. Which also meant that it didn't make him feel any better about escaping from them. Now Tallulah would be even more determined to find him. She was the type that wouldn't let a victim escape twice. And since she had a map, this was not good for the other tributes.

Lyrah. He had to warn her. She had to know, and he really wanted to see her. But how would he find her? He needed that map. Tallulah and the other Careers didn't deserve it like he did.

"LYRAH!" He shouted. There was no point in keeping quiet anymore. He had nothing to lose. Now that the Careers had a map, they knew where he was. Plus, the other tributes, well, he doubted they'd be able to kill him. "LYRAH, ANSWER ME."

"Shut up Treebrain," he heard a voice whisper from his left. He swirled around, and there she was, Lyrah, her hair was a mess, and her glasses were askew on the bridge of her nose. "Why are you shouting at me?"

"I needed to find you, to warn you," Linden started.

"Well, I'm here now, what's up? Why are you alerting everyone to our whereabouts?"

"The Careers. They have a map of the arena, and it shows where all the tributes are." He knew this because he had been eavesdropping, and heard their whole conversation. He thought he had escaped in time, but knew that with their map, they'd be able to find him.

He heard a gasp from behind one of the corn walls. It wasn't Lyrah. She sighed, "I heard that Fiver. You and Cord can come out now. It's just Linden, he won't hurt us."

"_Just _Linden. I'm hurt, Lyrah."

She blushed, and it made his heart soar. How had this happened? When did it happen? Why did it happen? And why couldn't he stop asking all of these questions?

"So what's this about a map?" Fiver asked as she slipped into review and ruined his reunion with Lyrah.

"It must have been the prize that Jo got. I think they cornered her to steal it from her."

"We heard a cannon, that was for Jo?" Lyrah asked, shocked. He nodded silently. He hadn't let the news sink in yet. To him, she was still alive. He had no proof that said otherwise, and he wouldn't until night time when the picture was shown of the tribute that had died. Not Jo, not the girl that he had gone to school with. The girl who had comforted his on and off again girlfriend when he was reaped. Jo, the most capable of any of the lower Districts, the daughter of victor. Who had been trained for the Games. If Jo couldn't even survive to day 3, how could Linden?

"Oh Linden, I'm so sorry," she said, and she did sound apologetic. Even though it meant it brought her one step closer to winning. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

"Well, if they have a map, we have to up our security. We need to be even more careful," Fiver said.

"Don't worry," Lyrah said, smirking, "I have a plan."

"Those are six words you never want to hear a genius say."

"For the last time, I'm not a genius."

Could of fooled him, he didn't say that though, if there was anything he had learned in his short life, that was to never argue with a woman.

* * *

><p>So it was just Zep and Linden cause they both had really long pov's. Next chapter will be Pontus, Roan and Arien. So more boys! And then we'll hit the girls again. Anyway, I have some potentially bad news. It's almost November, and you know what that means! NaNoWriMo. National Novel Writing Month for those of you who don't know. And this will be my third year in a row of doing NaNo. And so, I'll be focusing most of my time on writing 50,000 words of my own original novel. (Of course, I don't even have a story idea yet, so that could be problematic...if you have any ideas, I wouldn't object to hearing them) So that means chapters will be infrequent. Good news is that I'm ahead by 2 chapters, I spent the last few days writing as much as I could for this story, so I don't have to think about it for a month while I write for NaNo. So you'll get at least 2 chapters in November.<p>

Jo will be missed. But that's how the cookie crumbles.

I'll end this chapter by saying: For the love of cookies and all things sweet, please review! That is all. Have a great night, day, afternoon or whatever it is where you are. I've lost a lot of readers, and that makes me sad, and I don't know why I lost them. Anyway, if you are reading, say hi! Let me know what you think of the story so far!

&&&Misty^^^


	27. Rain Makes Corn

No, your eyes do not decieve you. Yes, this is a chapter. I think I'm still alive.

* * *

><p>End of Day 2<p>

PPP

Tallulah was not happy in the least bit. And it made Pontus laugh. He got quite a thrill from seeing her pissed off. Usually girls were cute when they were ticked off, but not Tallulah. He had never seen anyone look so scary. She was raving mad, it was so terrifying, it was funny. She didn't get to kill Jo, and Linden had escaped. Pontus had followed them back to the Cornucopia. They hadn't made a single wrong turn on their way back there because of their handy dandy notebook!

Castiel and Tallulah had argued about who got to hold it the whole walk back. Pontus was sick of it. Wouldn't it be great if he took the map and disappeared in the middle of the night? Now that was an idea. He'd rather be stuck with Lyrah then this crew. At least Lyrah kept him laughing, and she was fun to be around. And she could sing. Not as well as he could, but he had heard worse.

Kendra was waiting for them, looking bored. She had organized their little campsite, so all the tents were now set up. Well, they were set up to fall right back down as soon as someone went in there. Obviously, building tents were not Kendra's strong suit. In fact, Pontus was still trying to figure out what her strong suit really was. It didn't seem like she brought anything useful to the table. Hopefully (or rather, hopefully not) she'd surprise him. Because he didn't have much to show as a Career either. His mother had been adamant that he have nothing to do with training. And if the others (Tallulah and Castiel) found out that he had nothing, then they'd kick him out. Or kill him, which was more likely. He'd rather leave on his own.

The straw on the ground rustled as they walked over it. Pontus kicked off his shoes as if he was home and then sat down.

"Who'd you get?" Kendra asked, living vicariously through them because she hadn't been able to go on the hunting trip.

"You'll see tonight," Tory said tauntingly. It was the first time she had spoken in awhile. And Pontus thought he knew why; she had a boy back home. It was the only explanation. Pontus was gay; he knew when a girl was pining over someone, and she was clearly pining over a boy back home. How very Romeo and Juliet of her. He hoped she knew that in the end, they both die.

Pontus was very curious about Pre-Panem things. It had been difficult to get his hands on old poems and stories, but somehow he had managed. It was easier since he was the son of not just one, but two victors. And Shakespeare was the best. Hamlet was his all time favorite of the playwright's work. Probably because everyone died in the end, and in Panem, death was a way of life.

He ignored another fight between Castiel and Tallulah. It was really getting old. Didn't they know by now that they'd never get anywhere by the constant bickering? Oh well. He had corn on the cob and a show, what more could he want?

The sun began to set. It was now Night Two, and Pontus was still alive. Only one death for the second day. Not as exciting as some years. He remembered a few years ago where eleven had died on the first day, and five on the second day. The Gamemakers had a tough time drawing that one out for four days. It was an unspoken rule that Capitolites wanted their games to last at least four days. Any less and there were riots.

"Albacore is right near the East entrance," Tallulah called over. "Just two right turns and a left, and there he is, just hobbling about. We should go after him."

"And we all know what happened when you tried that with Linden," Tory shot back nastily. Tallulah made a face at her.

"Hey, where's Hannah?" Pontus asked, noticing that the blonde was no longer there.

Tallulah consulted her tablet, "she's not too far, probably just gathering more corn," her tone was nothing short of sarcastic.

"Should I go fetch her?" Pontus asked, eager to get away, if just for a second.

"And give you the map?" she scoffed. "I don't think so."

Yeah, Pontus didn't think it would be that easy either. But hey, it was worth a shot.

"She'll either come back tonight or we'll just kill her tomorrow," Castiel said easily, and that was that.

The rest of the sunset went by quickly and silently. None of them talked to one another, which was just fine by Pontus.

"Let's get the evening watches settled," Castiel said, breaking the silence that Pontus had been craving. "We'll do it in pairs again-"

"We don't need to do it in pairs, not with the map," Tallulah interrupted.

"Actually, we still do, because you didn't lift a charger from Jo, and we don't want to waste the battery. It's not going to last forever."

Tallulah sulked, but Castiel ignored her. "Good. Since everyone agrees, I'll take first watch with Tory. Zep and Kendra will be second and then Tallulah and Pontus can be last."

As expected, there were some complaints about who they had to watch with, and which time slot they had. The second one was the worst, and Pontus was glad he had slipped past that one. Not so glad he had ended up with Tallulah. She had turned into a colossal bitch. Well, she had probably always been one of those, but now she was letting the true her shine. He hated the true her. Some people really did need to hide who they really were.

Castiel and Tory set up a perimeter while the other four got ready for the night. The anthem began, and then a single picture was shown.

"You got Joliet!" Kendra said, impressed, "Nice. I pegged her as a difficult one to kill."

"She had something I wanted," Tallulah said simply as Joliet's picture disappeared and the tributes were left in the arena again with no contact from the outside world.

Pontus watched Kendra climb into one of the tents. She was the only one brave enough to do so, and the others just watched her, waiting. Sure enough, a few seconds later, the tent collapsed on her, causing her to shriek. She pounded at the material, trying to get out. No one made a move to help her. The Careers here were just so helpful and caring. Ha. Well, there may be no I in team, but there was an m and an e. And there wasn't a Pontus in that word either. So he was in the clear. Teams were for people he actually cared about, and it sure wasn't this group.

Kendra eventually found her way out and glared at the others. Not that any of them were paying attention. In fact, Zep was already snoring over in his corner. And Pontus hadn't heard Tallulah's big mouth in awhile, so he figured she was asleep as well. Pontus grabbed a blanket from the pile that Kendra had folded up nicely. Pontus never slept with a pillow at home, so he was fine without one here. Soon, his snores joined the other's.

He was shaken awake hours later, although it felt like only minutes. Kendra was gently nudging his shoulder. "It's your turn for watch."

No sooner had he sat up than Kendra had collapsed onto his blanket and curled up into a ball like a cat protecting its yarn.

It was him and Tallulah. Fun times. She consulted the map. "No one's moving, we're good for a little bit. Seems like everyone's asleep. And looky here, Linden joined with Lyrah." She scoffed. "As if that'll keep him safe. They seem useless and worthless."

Pontus didn't contradict her. He needed her on his side for now. The two of them sat on opposite sides of their little clearing for their watch. Tallulah kept playing with the map, burning the precious battery. There was a little battery symbol on the screen that showed how full it was along with the percentage of charge remaining. Joliet had probably started with 100%. When they had taken it from her, it was at 95%; Joliet had been careful with it. Pontus wondered how much Taullulah had already wasted. He asked her.

She glared at him before answering, "79%."

Pontus didn't tell her that she should probably shut it off. He knew how those of the female variety got when they were told to do something. "Can I take a look at it?" She lowered her eyes and fixed him with a glare. He held up his hands and surrendered. She went back to the screen, ignoring him completely.

AAA

Day two had come and gone, and now it was Day three. Last night, only one face had appeared in the sky, leaving a total of eight dead. Arien quickly did the math in his head to come up with his odds. They were better than before, but still, not good enough. At least he was still alive, though. He kept seeing Charisma's face as she died. He missed her pointless chatter, the way that she played with her hair when she was nervous. Charisma had been like a little sister to him.

Really, he just missed the company. He never knew how much other people kept him occupied until there were none left to do so. Life really was boring without someone to entertain him. And there was only so much walking around he could do. Only so many corn heads he could eat. Actually, the corn was bothering him. The first corn he had eaten was red, and the corn kernels currently surrounding him were green in color. But they looked scientifically engineered to be the different colors, so the green corn wasn't bad or moldy or anything, just green. And he had no idea what that meant, just another way for the Gamemakers to mess with his head. Which by the way, was working.

Arien was thirsty, his mouth was parched, and there was only so much moisture he could suck from the corn. For once in his life, he wished for rain. Alas, nothing happened. Well, he would have been surprised if it had. Arien's butt was sore, so he got up and stretched. There was no pattern to the maze. He had already checked. It was just endless turns, and even more dead ends. Arien liked walking. It was good exercise. Plus, it kept him alert and focused. There were some arenas where it was smarter to stay put and not move a muscle, but not this one. It was dangerous to get caught in a dead end. So whenever Arien found one, he hightailed it out of there and went in search of another path.

He hadn't run into a single soul yet, and that frightened him just as much as running into someone would have.

There was a fork in the road. He had taken a bunch of lefts, so this time he decided to switch it up some and take a left…surprise, suprise. There was something waiting for him down this path, so he peered closer, squinting his eyes as if he was looking up at the sun, to get a better view. It was a hole, a small hole just barely big enough for him to squeeze through. After walking through the corn, a dark hole in the path seemed weird and out of place. Since he didn't have a flashlight on him, he decided it was better to just turn around. And he did, but while he was contemplating the hole, a thick wall had raised up, and he couldn't go back the way he had come. Now his only option was to stay where he was and hope no one came through the hole, or go through it himself and see what was on the other side. Of course, that decision was made for him as well when the wall rumbled. Arien turned towards it to see what all the fuss about. Small holes were being made in the wall, making a space for metal spikes to come shooting out.

"SHIT!" Arien screamed, throwing himself to the ground, a spike whizzed past him. Using his hands and knees and staying as low as possible, he managed to crawl to the dark hole. He didn't notice the glint of the wire only a few centimeters off the ground right inside the mouth of the hole. So of course, he tripped it. The spikes stopped shooting at him, and he let out a sigh of relief. Only then did he see the wire that was on the ground.

"Well that can't be anything good." He muttered to himself. He plucked the wire again to see what would happen.

"Whoosh," the sound of a spike passing just centimeters from his ear was his answer. The wire was to let the wall know when to start and stop sending spikes his way. Arien plucked the wire again, and the spikes stilled in midair, only to crumple to the ground. Another release of his breath that he didn't realize he had been holding. Well, that was settled. He'd have to go through the tunnel. Only the Gamemakers knew what was in store for Arien, and that wasn't a comforting thought.

The tunnel was dark and damp and smelled musty. He had to continue to crawl since the ceiling was low, and there were stalactites hanging down that looked sharp enough to draw blood. He was silent, not wanting to disturb one and have it come crashing down on him. Plus, the oils from his hands would kill the stalactites, and they really were gorgeous. He had never seen one up close before; only in the school books. Well, that was one thing he could tick off his bucket list.

The path seemed to be dipping downwards, yet a small stream next to him was running upwards, a natural occurrence that happened only in caves and baffled scientists. It was chilly and looked okay to drink. Not that he had a choice. He bent down and let his tongue run through the water. It soothed his throat, and quenched his thirst. After he had his fill, he continued down the path, staying far away from the water. It was possible to drown in just a centimeter of water, and he wasn't going to take the chance. The farther down he went, the more his teeth were chattering. The path dropped off into a small cavern-like room. Stalactites and stalagmites had grown together, making columns. There was a small glow coming from the algae in the pond, enough light so he could see where the path continued on. He sat down on a boulder to take a break and think.

Maybe he should just stay in the cavern. It was dark, and if any of the other tributes managed to find him, he'd be able to hide in the shadows. With a game plan ready, Arien curled up on the ground and took a much needed nap.

RRR

Roan desperately needed something to drink. Not water, but something better. Beer to dull his headache and make the time fly. Alcohol that would diminish his senses and help him cope. Even a cigarette would work. Just something to keep him occupied. Roan hated having free time on his hands. He liked to keep busy, liked giving his hands something to do. More often than not, they were doing a girl. There were lots of girls around. One of them had to be willing. It had been so long since his last sexcapade, and he was dying for something new, someone he had never explored before. Well, there was always Cat. But she wasn't new. He knew exactly what he was getting with her. A girl so worried about germs, dirt and even numbers. She hadn't been fun the first time, and without a doubt he knew she'd be exactly the same.

However, there was the news from yesterday, the deliverance of Cham to the arena. He hadn't conquered her yet. Now that would be a challenge, one that he was up for. Why not have just one twin when he could have two? Goal in mind, he set out to find the twins in the maze. They would take only right turns, so that meant that he had to take left turns? Right? No, left turns, not right turns. Roan cursed at his stupid voice to shut up. He couldn't think with the damn voices chattering in his head. That was why he hated being sober. There were side effects when he was sober, and that was hearing voices. He'd much rather be drunk all the time. Now where was Kanga when he needed her? She was his damn mentor for crying out loud, she should be sending him beer galore. He was much better when he was drunk.

"Send me a damn beer Kanga!" He shouted up into the sky. Instead of a can of beer magically appearing, there was a rumbling in the distance as a response. Damn. He hoped a thunderstorm wasn't on the way. He wasn't much for rain. Even though rain made corn, and corn made whiskey and whiskey made his ladies feel a little frisky. That was it! A light bulb went off in his head, which hardly ever happened. He had corn, so he could make whiskey. He didn't need beer.

Singing the tune off key, Roan went to work gathering the corn. After he had a nice little handful, he started stripping of the husks and was left with pink corn. Wait? Pink? Well, pink whiskey sounded delicious. He wasn't picky when it came to the color of his liquor. Although, he did prefer that his beer be darker in color, not as watered down.

He didn't know the first step to brewing some moonshine in his tub, but how hard could it be? Even someone like him who wasn't particularly book smart could figure it out. Actually, he was very book smart. He was smart enough to burn it when he got hold of one. Classes were only good for one thing; flirting with the ladies. He really needed someone to flirt with. The ability to do so was something that not every guy (or girl for that matter) was blessed with. He was not going to let talent go to waste.

There was a commotion to his left. He dumped his corn on the ground and silently slid over to where the voices were. There were quite a few. None sounded like the twins. He knew their voices really well. Cat's was just a tad higher pitched then her twin, and they spoke with the District 10 accent, short words, extra pronunciation on the vowels. These voices were all different, so there were several different Districts out there. One of the girls was talking slowly, making sure her words were clear and easy to understand. It was how the Sixes talked. Lyrah. It had to be her. He brought up a picture of her mentally. She was very plain, but he wasn't picky. If the girl wasn't exactly a picnic to look at, well, that's why paper bags were invented, right?

"Let me go!" A sarcastic voice that seemed higher pitched then usual complained. The Three girl. "You big lout."

Roan leaned his head around the corner and watched the scene unfold in front of him. The two Three's, Lyrah, and the Seven boy must have been cornered by the Career group. Well, not the whole group, just three of them. Roan recognized them as Tallulah, Victory and Zephyr. Four against four. Not bad. But still, Careers were Careers. And Tallulah would do anything to get what she wanted.

Roan wasn't that interested in watching the fight that was going on. Tallulah's hands wrapped around Seven's neck wasn't that exciting. With one last glance at them, Roan slinked back to his corn.

Screams echoed all around him.

"Rain makes corn, corn makes whiskey, and whiskey makes my ladies, feel a little frisky."

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><p>I doubt my apologies will make up for how long I let this story go by without an update. <em>Nope, absolutely not! Two months almost!<em> I can give you so many (valid) excuses, but it won't make up for the time lapse. _Excuses are like butt holes, everyone has one, and they all stink! _Oh shush Pontus, I'm trying my best. _Well your best isn't good enough, come on, get with the program and churn out those chapters like you used to. _Well, actually, it's going to be extremely slow right now. _*glare__* What if I get everyone to review again? Then will you update faster? _We'll see.

&&&Misty^^^


	28. The Dangers Of Corn

Why yes, this is a chapter!

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><p>Day 3<p>

KKK

"But Kendra, you did such a great job guarding yesterday. You should guard again," Kendra muttered under her breath, mimicking what Castiel had said to her a few hours before hand. Well, it was clear to her that Castiel didn't think she was good enough to go out on the prowl.

Obviously fate wanted her in the Games though, or her best friend Keitha never would have been reaped and Kendra wouldn't have had to volunteer. Her fate couldn't have been to come to the Games just to guard. She was better than that, and she wanted to prove that she was worthy of being there. And so she did what any other girl in her position would do. She left.

No tribute in their right mind would ambush the Career camp. Not if they weren't suicidal, at least. And she had plans to be back at camp before the others returned. They'd never know the difference.

She didn't get far into the maze before she was lost.

"I took a left, then a right, then went straight, another left," she muttered to herself, trying to keep it all straight. She really wished that she had a map. That gave her an idea. They had a map in their possession. All they had to do was get their hands on pen and paper and copy it down. Then they'd have a few maps. Of course, there'd only be one map with the other tributes' location. But a map with no tribute location was better than no map at all. Kendra took another turn and almost ran into a huge spider web. The spider wasn't there, though. Kendra didn't want to wait for it to return, but that was a very intricate web. The material was thick and white. She was curious enough to reach forward and touch it. It was sticky. Well, it had to be sticky, that's how flies were caught. She pulled her finger away, but it wouldn't budge.

"Shit."

She heard scuttling behind her, Kendra turned to see the spider coming her way. She cursed again. It studied her, and Kendra didn't break eye contact. She had heard that it was wise to keep eye contact with wild animals and not to be the first to look away. Well, she was the ultimate champion in the staring contests that she used to participate in at school. In fact, most of the others refused to challenge her.

For once, she liked her title of _the girl who doesn't blink._ It was true. Her Panem studies teacher once said that the average person blinks 25 times a minute. So of course, all the students had to try it out. Thistle had the most with forty blinks a minute. And the least number of blinks was brought to you by yours truly, a number of 12 which totally baffled her Panem studies teacher.

Kendra felt the hiccups coming on. She always got them when she was scared. She had the sudden urge to bite her nails, but with one hand stuck on the web and the other holding a weapon, her nails were safe for awhile. She needed to kick that habit, and now seemed like a perfectly good time to do so.

The spider wasn't blinking either. Kendra kept her stare-down going, refusing to be the first to look away. Why did it seem like it knew what she was thinking? And the thing was moving its pinchers, and she swore it was trying to communicate with her.

He took a step closer to her.

Kendra screamed.

TTT

Her ears were never going to stop ringing. Never. No matter what turn they took, there was always someone screaming. First there was the screaming when they cornered that one alliance. They needed a name. Tory was so sick and tired of having to say "The Threes with Six girl and Seven boy." It was just a very long name. She was part of the Careers, a name that was easy to remember, one that no one would forget, one that caused the other tributes to tremble at the knees.

Well, now the alliance was down to only three. The fourth was struggling in Tallulah's arms right now. Tory wished they had just killed him when they had the chance. Now they had a prisoner to watch. But Tallulah didn't want to _just _kill him. She had an agenda that included torture. Tory, on the other hand, didn't believe in torture. That was just plain mean. A clean kill, no pain. It was how she wanted to go.

"Are you sure they aren't following us?" Tallulah barked at Tory. Since Tallulah was busy with their prisoner, Tory had been given the task of watching the screen. She turned it on and consulted the map, looking for the pink, lilac and gray names. She was starting to memorize what colors signified which name. Now she looked for colors instead of reading all of the names that still littered the map.

"They will," Linden managed to spit out. Tallulah tightened her grip on him.

"Nope, not yet. They're still in the southeast corner, not moving. I think we did a number on them." Tory turned off the map again. The battery percentage just kept getting lower and lower.

"Well, corn does make a good weapon," Zep said from behind them. "A nice little club."

"Then where's the screaming coming from?" Tallulah asked with a clipped tone. "It sounds close."

"It sounds like Kendra," Tory added. The three Careers looked at each other with wide eyes.

"KENDRA?" They said together.

"But she's supposed to be guarding the camp," Tallulah said. "Tory, is Kendra at camp?"

After checking the map, Tory saw that Kendra was definitely NOT at the camp, but she did recognize the dead end where Kendra was stuck. Only because Tallulah had complained about it yesterday and shown the others exactly where the spider was on the map. Obviously, Kendra hadn't been paying attention. "No, but I know where she is, and you're not going to like it." Tory took a right instead of a left, and hurried her stride as the screaming intensified. It was definitely Kendra. And she seemed to be in pain.

They rounded the last turn and saw Kendra, caught in the spider web. The gigantic spider was working on wrapping her up in a tight white cocoon.

"Geez, Kendra, we give you one duty and you muck that up. Stay at the camp. That was all that was asked of you. You idiot. I should just leave you there." Tallulah shook her head angrily. The more Kendra struggled the tighter the cocoon became.

"You can't just leave me here!" She squealed. "It's too early on in the Games, you still need me."

Tory didn't see how they could need her. After all, Kendra never did what she was told. She was always too busy looking up at the stars. They probably would be better off without her. "We should ask Castiel." Tory reached over to grab the walkie attached to Tallulah's pants. The spider continued to wrap Kendra, not caring about the other four standing just feet away. It was now working on wrapping up her neck. Soon, she wouldn't be able to breathe. Tory pressed the button on the walkie. "Castiel, Kendra's stuck in the spider's web. What should we do? Over."

It was three long seconds before Castiel's voice came through the static. "Leave her there. Over."

"That's what I said," Tallulah said triumphantly. Then her face contorted in rage. "Why is it that you insisted on listening to him? He put me in charge of this group. That should have been my call. Come on, let's release her and see what Castiel says to that."

By the time they finished their conversation, Kendra's neck was almost bound. Her breath was coming in quick bursts. Tory felt bad that Kendra was in so much pain, but other than that, Tory didn't care much. They either needed to free her or end her life.

"You know, the spider's probably hungry. It just wants to eat a good dinner," Zep spoke up.

"That's morbid," Linden said quietly. Tallulalah sighed and hit him with her elbow, knocking him unconscious.

"Great, now we'll have to carry him," Tory complained.

"Or we can leave him here for the spider to eat. If we're freeing Kendra, might as well leave him _something." _Zep said, getting ready to drag Linden's limp body over to the web.

"Don't you mean some_one?" _Tallulah asked as she grabbed her spear and headed towards the spider. "I don't want to kill it. It might come in handy later."

"It's a mutant, Tallulah. It'll be stupid to leave it alive."

"Just make up your damn minds already." Kendra burst out angrily. "I'm tired of this back and forth nonsense."

"Ooh, looky here. Kendra's getting snappy."

The three Careers went to work freeing Kendra. Tallulah and Zep kept the spider back while Tory used her small knife to cut through the silky white thread that the spider had graciously covered Kendra with. Well, she tried, but the knife stuck in and wouldn't budge. "Shit," she muttered, trying to remove it. Tory turned to Tallulah, "I don't think we'll be getting her out."

"Kill the spider?" Zep suggested. And before Tallulah could object, Zep slid his sword blade through the spider's stomach. The animal's painful scream pierced Tory's ears and echoed long after it was dead. The web dried up and wilted. Tory's knife clattered to the ground first, then Kendra.

"'Bout time," she complained, dusting the dirt off of her bum.

"Any longer and you would have been the spider's dinner," Zep said as he helped Tallulah pick up Linden. "And then he would have been mad cause I'm sure you would have tasted nasty. Seriously, you have like no meat on your bones."

They were a sight to behold as they walked back to camp where the other three were already waiting. Castiel did not look pleased when he saw Kendra. He rounded on Tallulah. "I said to leave her." Castiel practically growled. "And what the fuck is he doing here?" He nodded towards Linden, who was finally coming back to his senses.

"Don't worry Castiel, I've got it covered," Tallulah replied sweetly. Tory didn't doubt that.

CCC

"We have to go after him" Lyrah shouted, throwing herself at Fiver in an attempt to race after the Career group. They had long since left though, with a great head start. They would never catch up to the Careers in the maze. And once the Careers got to the Cornucopia field, they'd have no chance.

"Lyrah, calm down," Fiver said, grasping Lyrah by her shoulders and shaking her.

"Shaking her won't work." Cord rolled his eyes.

"Then you do something," Fiver shot back.

Cord went over to Lyrah, grasped her shoulders, and shook her. Lyrah glared at them, "You can stop shaking me now," she said calmly. "I'm okay now, well, kind of okay. We have to get Linden. There's no way I'm letting that bitch kill him. Look, I told you I had a plan, right?"

They both nodded. She hadn't explained to them what her plan was yet, but she seemed very excited about it.

"There are certain substances in all types of plants," Lyrah started out, "and if you manipulate them just right, you can make medicine."

"How's medicine going to help?" Fiver scoffed. Lyrah calmly explained exactly where she was going with it.

"Medicine isn't used just for good, you know. There're certain types of medicine out there that can be poisonous, deadly to the human system." She seemed to light up as she spoke about medicine. Being from Six, that was all she knew. "My parents are doctors. Well, my mom is. My dad was before he died. Anyway, dad made a hurtful drug, while mom found the cure for that drug. They were a great team. They found so many different cures for all types of diseases."

"Okay, but if we have a poison, how are we to make sure the Careers get it and no one else does?"

Cord was wondering that same thing. It was just like when there were poisonous berries in the arena. Usually there was no one stupid enough to eat the berries. Lyrah's eyes glinted, and Cord knew that she had a plan up her sleeve.

"There's a certain substance in corn, a deadly one, but my mom refuses to work with it because of how harmful it can be. But, it's our only chance, and I think, no, I _know_ I can make it work. You have to trust me on this."

"We do Lyrah," Fiver finally sighed, "but we can't risk our lives for Linden. Not in the Games."

"He's my friend, Fiver, and I'll do whatever it takes to get him back alive." Lyrah seemed determined. Cord had never seen such defiance on her face before. It kind of scared him. The wild look in his eyes made her seem fierce. He had thought less of her during the pre-Games week, but now that she was in his alliance, he had seen how strong and determined she could be.

"So how do we get this substance from the corn?" Cord asked her, very interested in how she was going to do this. Her eyes lit up, and she reached over and snapped off a corn head. The other two watched her as she got to work stripping the out leaves off of it, revealing orange corn. "Wasn't the corn brown last time?"

"You know what, you're right." Lyrah replied, not taking her attention off of her work. "What do you think it means?"

"Maybe the color changes each day?" Cord suggested, knowing how stupid that idea sounded as soon as he said it.

"No, that's not it. It has to mean something. The Gamemakers don't do anything half-ass. Everything has a meaning. We just need to figure out what that meaning is," Lyrah said, piling all the stripped husks into a pile. "I'm going to need some water and some matches or something to start a fire."

"Take that up with the mentors," Fiver said, looking upwards. The sun shone down bright in her eyes. She looked away quickly. "Do you think the different colors of the corn kernels represents something?"

"Like what?" Cord asked, trying to figure out what she was getting at. He came up with nothing. He knew the girls were smarter than he was, though, so hopefully they could figure it out when he couldn't. The Gamemakers liked puzzles. They adored putting brain teasers in the arena to see who was smart enough to work them out.

"Didn't Linden mention something about a map?" Fiver finally said. The wheels in her head were turning, and that was all the others needed to start figuring it out. A spark of an idea could turn it into the missing piece. Just like Lyrah needed a single spark to start a fire.

"Yes!" Lyrah exclaimed, "and he said the names were all in different colors! What color did he say Jo's name was in? Brown?"

Fiver nodded excitedly. Cord was ecstatic too, they were going to figure this out.

"We need that map," Lyrah said, "we need to figure out what color everyone is."

"I bet if we had the map, we wouldn't need to know what color everyone is," Fiver pointed out. "But I still want to work this out. We should walk around and see what other kinds of colors the corn is."'

"You and Cord can, but I need to stay here with the corn. I can't leave in the middle of my work."

As if she said the magic word, a nice little silver parachute fell down at her feet. She gave an excited little gasp, standing up to do her version of the happy dance. One of them had a sponsor. That made Cord feel a bit better. It was always nice to know that someone was backing them. The more help they had, the longer they might be able to live for. Lyrah took her sweet time untying the string around the gift. Cord wanted to rip it from her and tear it open.

"What does the note say? Who's it from?" Fiver asked her.

Lyrah grabbed the tiny little card with the Panem seal on it, "Dear Lyrah, Fiver, and Cord- Hopefully this will help you. Best of luck." She broke off and put the card down on the ground, "there was no name, so I'm not sure who it was from." Finally, after several agonizing moments, she opened the box and fished out a box of matches and three canteens of water. "They _were_ listening to me!"

Cord found it ironic that the people in Panem who were looking forward to their deaths were helping them by sending gifts to help them to survive.

Lyrah took out a match and struck it on the box. It sparked on the first try, and she lit the corn husks.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Fiver asked.

"What do you mean?"

Fiver stood up and waved her hands, "Hey Careers, over here! We're lighting a fire to show you exactly where we are! Come and get us!"

Lyrah asked, "You almost had Kendra's voice down perfectly, but no, I'm not worried. Well, I am, but not because of the fire. They have a map. They'll know where we are no matter what, and the other tributes won't attack us. We're too big of a group."

"Have I told you how smart you are?" Cord said, settling down on the ground next to her and picking at the hay.

"Not today you haven't," she smiled at him then blew lightly on the fire to get it raging. When she was satisfied with the heat, she took one of the metal canteens and held it over the fire to boil the water on the inside. Then she went to work bossing Fiver and Cord around. They were only too happy to oblige because it gave them something to do to pass time. "I think I can handle it from here. If you want to go explore the other paths and see what color the corn is over there, just don't go too far."

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><p>Okay, here's the deal, I'm going to try super hard to get more chapters posted. But I highly doubt that it will be any time soon. My life kind of fell apart in November during NaNo, I won't burden you with my personal issues, but that is why chapters have been sporadic. I can't promise a chapter to come any time soon.<p>

Misty!

Random question: What do you think of the names Annaylse Haley and Cody Bennett?


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